Berserker's Instinct
by BlkLunaDragon
Summary: Mutilated bodies are turning up in remote wooded areas in Santa Barbara. After a surprising meeting on the beach, questions lead to more than just finding the killer. It leads to revealing secrets that run deep and are far too painful to remember.
1. Prologue – A Calm Stroll on the Beach

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original plot and characters are the property of the author. The author is NOT associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any recognizable franchises mentioned in story. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Prologue – A Calm Stroll on the Beach **

The night was silent, except for the sound of the waves gently lapping the beach. It was a cool night with a bright moon shining overhead and twinkling stars dotting the clear, black sky. It was peaceful.

But that peace had not translated well from what he had just gone through.

"_I had to stumble on that during my first time out in a long time. What a nice way to relieve stress and get plenty of exercise."_ He mentally scoffed.

His feet shuffled throwing sand in the night air. The cooling breeze provided comfort, but he still ached all over.

"_After all that, I hope she got away."_

He stumbled over his steps a little before his legs finally gave out and his body landed in the sand. Liking the icy sand against his flushed skin, he laid there.

He was glad no one was here to bear witness to this moment of extreme weakness.

Sighing, he listened to the natural sounds of the night hoping to gather enough energy to make it back home. But the rhythmic crashing of the waves in the distance was soon interrupted by a gasp.

"_I guess I thought too soon."_

He could hear their running feet hitting the ground, making their way toward him.

He stayed still; eyes closed. _"Maybe they'll think I'm dead and leave me alone."_

A familiar scent wave through the air and he groaned.

"_On second thought that probably won't be happening."_

He could feel hands shaking him, which after a few moments turned annoyingly desperate. He growled an "Ok" before slowly pushing himself up. The person's hands wrapped around his arms intending to help him up, but he pushed them away uttering a quick, "I'm fine." As he got to his feet, he glared at the person who was a thorn in his side during the day.

Ignoring the questions and concern spewing from the person's lips, he wiped sand off his face, and quickly glanced down at himself making sure nothing seemed out of place. He frowned when he noticed something missing.

An image of its tattered remains lying in a pile of leaves quickly fluttered through his mind.

He frowned._ "I liked that jacket." _

He turned looking out toward the ocean, continuing to ignore the person 'dancing' next to him.

The dark blues were lightening.

A brief image of greenery with splashes of liquid shadow overlaid the sand before disappearing.

His frown deepened.

"_This situation needs to be dealt with quickly and discreetly before something spills out…"_

Although with the way things were looking, he stole a quick glance to his right at the person next to him, things were going to turn ugly, real ugly.

Unless…

A particular thought filtered through his mind making his right hand twitch, but he quickly squashed it and instead chose to rub a hand through his hair.

"_Can't do that, he wouldn't like dealing with an extra body."_

Taking notice of the large full moon and bright twinkling stars, he muttered lowly, "At least the sky is beautiful," and then he turned away heading back home. His feet shuffled with a little less difficulty then before.

A hand grasped his left arm and he yanked away, growling for the pest to stay back and to not follow.

But the person still wanted to follow and as they made it pass the threshold of concrete, he again expressed that he was fine. When that didn't work, he half turned and stated with extra venom "Go home, puppy," topping it with a murderous glare.

The response was immediate. He couldn't tell if it was shock, confusion, or fear, but all was mixed in the air and coming from the now frozen source.

He paused._ "Oh great, I slipped. Should I reconsider?_"

He shook his head and continued his walk, happy that his follower finally stopped following. As long as he stayed away for the moment, he didn't care. He was tired and ready for the hours of sleep that was waiting at home.

Before disappearing down an alley, he muttered as an afterthought, "Hopefully they heed the warning because if not… _I'll have to step in and I know he definitely won't like that." _

He glanced up at the brightened sky before hurrying his steps.

"_But maybe it's time for him to wake up and stop running, anyway." _


	2. Ch1 Pineapples Were Always the Solution

**Chapter 1 - Pineapples Were Always the Solution **

[Wed]

He and Henry had another fight.

"_What's to say?"_ The guy could and would never understand his ways. He was so boring. Life was meant to be lived, not handled in a straight line. It was meant to zigzag and cross and loop de loop. It can't be controlled and he wanted to live just like that: spontaneous.

And that was one of the many things his father would never appreciate. Hell, it probably wasn't in his dictionary to begin with.

"_I try to lighten his mood with a little random surprise, and he just burns it and throws it back in my face. Why did I even try?"_

That question floated. He had no answer. It was just a feeling that spurred the action; some nonsense feeling.

And it was those confusing feelings on top of his father's disapproval that created the anger that brought him to pacing the beachfront in the wee hours of the morning. It was one of the many things he did in order to cool his head.

At night, in certain areas, the beach was quiet and no one was there to hound him or belittle him or tell him he wasn't taking responsibility. It was the perfect place to think and be yourself, outside of the apartment, of course.

So it was quite a surprise to find that he wasn't alone on the beach. He thought it was a drunk or some bum passed out in the sand. Curiosity and the need to push back his thoughts was what drove him to drift to the seemingly unconscious man lying on his stomach down in the sand. But those feelings were immediately shoved away in favor of concern when he took notice of the red blotches staining the person's clothes.

A hand shook him back to the present and he turned toward his best friend whose eyes were filled with annoyance.

"Did you even hear a word I said?" The question was met with a blank stare. "I guess not." The light turned green and his friend's attention turned back to the road.

"Dude, I'm sorry. I must've zoned out. I didn't get any sleep last night. What were you saying?"

Gus rolled his eyes. "The next time I leave for a conference you are coming with me."

"But why?" He whined.

"I can't believe you use my credit card to buy that fountain for Psych."

"But dude it's so cool and you said you wanted one."

Gus turned into the parking lot of the SBPD and parked his blue Echo. "Yea, when I was twelve and even if I wanted one now, I wouldn't have installed it inside of Psych nor filled it with pineapple soda."

"But pineapple anything is a hundred times better than water."

Gus sighed and got out of the car. He followed. "That doesn't make your fountain idea any better."

They walked up the steps and enter the building.

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't."

"Yes it does."

"No it doesn't," Gus paused with arms crossed, "And you'll find out in a couple of days when things start moving in… uninvited."

"What things?"

"Like I said you'll find out and I'm not cleaning up." Gus walked off heading toward the chief's office.

His smile faltered when he realized what Gus meant.

"But Gus…" He hurried into the chief's office. "We…" Whatever he was about to say died on his lips when he saw Chief Vick's glare.

"Gentlemen have a seat." They sat down. "Thanks for coming in. I called you here because we have an unusual case involving three dead bodies and now four as of this morning. We also have a missing person that might be linked to the case." She handed Gus a gray folder. "Here is the case file and once Detectives Lassiter and O'Hara make it back from the most recent scene, they'll fill you in on the details. You are excused."

Standing up, he opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

"And you are not allowed to go to the crime scene." Gus looked relieved. "They should be through with gathering evidence and on the way back as we speak. Use this time to look over the file."

She escorted them out of her office and closed the door before he could protest.

"That was straight to the point." He looked over at Gus. "Well, let's go look around that crime scene."

"Shawn, she just said we aren't allowed to go."

"Come on. You know how I work. I have to see the scene. Touch things. Smell things."

Gus grimaced. "I for one don't want to smell anything from there and you know how I get around dead bodies."

"If you don't want to go, then gimme your keys."

"I am not giving you my keys. God knows what will happen."

"Aw, I won't wreck the blueberry."

Shaking his head, Gus walked off heading toward one of the empty office rooms, but stopped and looked back when he heard a jingling sound.

"But seeing that I got the keys…"

"How in the… Shawn, give me back my keys."

"Nope." And he took off running to the front doors. Opening the door with a wide grin, he made to exit only to bump into someone, knocking both of them to the ground.

"Shawn, you know you–" He heard Gus swallow his words. Confused, he looked over at the person he bowled over. Angry blue eyes met his and he gulped.

"Spencer!"

"Hi, Lassie." He grinned. Gus helped him, while Jules helped Lassie. "Had a nice trip? I know I did."

He could see Jules shake her head, but she had a tiny smile on her face. Lassie just glared and walked in. Jules followed closely behind him.

"Real nice, Shawn." Gus stated sarcastically.

"Ok, let's get this over with so we can get some real work done."

Lassie stated to them as they took their seats in the conference room. He watched as the head detective walked up to the white board, and started his talk about the case.

Two minutes in, he found his attention wandering.

"…_Maybe that fountain wasn't a good idea. I don't wanna have to deal with creepy crawlers… unless I can train them to do simple stuff like clean and wash, that way I won't have to clean up behind them. But that might take too long. I could just relocate them to Dad's place. After all, he was the one that kicked me out last night when I was trying to do something …nice …for him. …The beach!"_

He completely forgot about what happened at the beach. His eyes focused back to Lassie, who was currently scribbling something on the board. He studied him.

"_There are no fresh scratches or wounds on his skin or any that I can see." _

He watched as Lassie paced the front, motioning with his hands about something important.

"_He isn't limping or having difficulty walking." _

Lassie then pointed to a map, highlighting key areas in the city. A frown was present on his face.

"_He is his usual 'radiant' self. So, what was he doing on the beach and why aren't there any signs? Is there something I'm missing? I'll have to go back to–"_

"Spencer are you getting any vibes from all this?" Lassie voiced, bringing him flying back to reality. Unprepared, he responded with the first thing on his mind.

"The beach?" Lassie questioned looking at him strange. "What does that have to do with anything here? All the victims were found in isolated areas around Parma Park. This is not the time to be thinking about taking a leisurely stroll down the beach. People are dying because of some sick bastard's fetish."

"Fetish?"

Lassie's face fell. "You weren't even paying attention were you?"

He didn't answer.

Huffing, Lassie stomped out of the room muttering something about working with an imbecile.

He could feel two pairs of eyes staring daggers at him. He ignored them and followed Lassie out of the room. He had to check this out. If he didn't, it would bother him until his attention focused on something else, but after that it would loop back around to this again, in a never-ending circle.

He found Lassie sitting at his desk looking over the case file and writing notes in his yellow notepad.

"Spencer, what do you want?" He could hear the annoyance dripping from each word as the detective finished writing and turned a glaring eye at him.

"_I wonder. Is it best to be straightforward or vague?" _He shrugged internally and just went with it.

"Did you happen to go anywhere last night?"

Lassie's eyebrow rose at the question. "I don't have to inform you what I do after hours. Why do you want to know?"

He placed a hand to his temple. "I had a vision of you at the beach covered in… It's hard to see… um… covered in red… Jello?"

Lassie's neutral expression settled into a scowl. He could practically see the words going through Lassie's head, but the desk phone ringing prevented them from coming out of his mouth.

He watched as Lassie answered and listened intently; a smile twigged at the edge of his lips as he hung up.

Standing up, Lassie closed the case file.

Wary, he took a step back.

The only times he saw Lassie happy was when he thought he had probable cause to arrest him for something or he had probable cause to pull a gun on a suspect.

"_A happy Lassie is a dangerous Lassie."_

Lassie saw his guarded stance.

"Oh don't worry. That call had nothing to do with you." Lassie walked past him over to Jules' desk, "O'Hara, we have a viable tip. Get ready. I'll meet you at the car."

Lassie came back to his desk grabbing his keys and a small black notebook. "Spencer, next time you have one of your episodes make sure it pertains to the case. And also, I hate Jello."

He watched as Lassie walked out of the station with Jules following behind him.

"_He didn't answer my question." _He noted.

"What was that all about?" Startled, he looked over to see Gus.

"Dude, don't do that. At least make some kind of noise or something." He saw the puzzled expression on Gus' face. "Never mind, I'll tell you when we get to Psych. Where did you disappear to?"

"Oh I was talking to Buzz about how adding certain spices to certain foods in a specific order can enhance the flavor of …"

Already feeling bored; he started walking away toward the front doors, counting down for when Gus realize his audience was missing.

"Shawn!"

**Author Note: So there's the first chapter to one crazy ride of a story. This idea has been plaguing me for over a year, and I have 20+ chapters finished, so I'll be posting when the wind tells me to post. Overall it is unfinished, but I guarantee I will not let this die, unless something happens to me (which I hope won't happen.)**

**Anyway to my readers I hope the story will boggle your mind and take it hostage as it has done to me. Hehe. **

**Oh. Almost forgot. If something disturbing comes in a chapter, I will give a warning at the beginning. But who doesn't love a little blood and gore?**


	3. Ch2 Not the Typical Stakeout

**Chapter 2 – Not the Typical Stakeout**

He pulled up across the street from their intended destination and turned the engine off. "Hopefully this tip won't be a dead end." He muttered before thinking, _"On the bright side, I'm away from that train wreck called Spencer." _He looked at his partner in the passenger seat. "O'Hara, call HQ and let them know we're here."

She nodded and grabbed the radio to report their position.

He trained his eyes on the building: an abandon warehouse.

It was the perfect criminal hideout. Quiet, isolated, identical buildings surrounding it, planned for demolition in the coming weeks – an image of the property's layout came to mind – and an easy escape route to the woods. Yea, perfect.

"_Come to think of it, Parma Park isn't far from here."_

But with no search warrant, he and his partner were stuck watching the location and waiting for something interesting to happen.

Two hours passed without incident. The sun was starting its descent.

And then O'Hara thought it was a good time to talk.

"So, did Shawn have anything interesting to talk to you about after the briefing?"

"No." He stated; his eyes never leaving the building, "He had one of his episodes."

"Oh. No wonder, he was zoned out from the beginning."

He growled looking at her. "He wasn't listening the whole time? _That was an hour-long briefing just for them." _

O'Hara seemed to have ignored his question and glare. Her eyes were sparkling with interest. "So did he tell you what he saw? Because it seemed urgent when he left the conference room."

"Yes." He stated rather bluntly. He turned his eyes back to the building hoping to end the conversation.

"So…"

He didn't say anything and continued to glare at a point on the side of the building.

"What did he say?"

He muttered a few choice words under his breath before glancing over at his partner.

"_She has that same expression my kid sister uses."_ Sighing, he gave in. "It was ridiculous. Sometimes, I wonder if he was dropped on his head multiple times as a baby."

"Carlton!"

"Okay," he huffed. "He asked me if I went anywhere last night and then he states that he saw me, in one of his visions, on the beach covered in red Jello. How idiotic can that get?" He turned back toward the building. "It has nothing to do with the case. Why ask me some off the wall question?"

Before she could answer, movement in the alley between the buildings caught his attention. A door flew open, along with a female body falling to the ground. Kicking, she was picked up and pulled back into the building by a distinctly male figure.

Checking his gun, he glanced at O'Hara, who was also checking hers.

"Update HQ and call for back-up." He ordered as he opened and closed his door, and hurried across the street with his gun drawn. Putting his back to the wall, he looked down the alley checking for hidden traps. His partner took position beside him. Without a word, he hurried cautiously down the alley, crouched low with eyes sweeping the area. Stopping past the now slightly opened door, he put his back against the wall. O'Hara followed suit, but stopped before the door. Their eyes met and she placed her left hand on the door handle. He held up three fingers, two, then one, and she pulled the door open. He entered first, sweeping the area.

His other senses were on full alert as his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit inside. No one was in the immediate area. It was quiet, except for the groaning of the building. He signaled for the all clear and O'Hara stepped up next to him. Looking around, he noticed the old machinery peppered around the open area and the strong smell of wood.

"_This must have been an old lumbering company."_

He caught sight of a table saw with uncovered blades.

"_Just perfect."_

A figure moved on the opposite side of the area.

"Stop where you are!" He yelled pointing his gun. "And put your hands up."

The person complied.

He cautiously made his way to the shadowed person. O'Hara followed suit.

They were only a few feet away when the figure made a sudden jerky movement and the floor disappeared from underneath them causing darkness to swallow them whole.

* * *

><p>Once the world stopped spinning, she moved her arm around pushing boxes and debris off of her.<p>

She coughed._ "What happened?"_ She looked up expecting a raggedy hole, but discovered a huge…

"_Trap door?"_

Something shuffled in the darkness. She reached for the gun at her hip, but remembered she had it out when she and Carlton fell. It could be anywhere.

"_And speaking of Carlton."_

Looking around, she spotted his unconscious form over to her right and beside him was a gun. She started crawling over to him, hoping to grab the gun before their attacker decided to make a move.

But she never made it, as something heavy hit her head and darkness took hold of her vision.

* * *

><p>Two figures stood over the two unconscious detectives in the pile of smashed boxes. A woman leaned in looking curiously. Shoulder length, light brown hair cascaded forward.<p>

"I wonder what Leo is planning?"

"I don't know, but if it was my choice…" A big man cracked his knuckles.

She looked back. "You know what Leo said."

"But killing my brother was uncalled for."

"It's your fault for attacking first."

Growling was the reply. "You can't say anything. You weren't there."

"But I heard enough to know." She threw back. "Now, let's move them like Leo says before he gets down here."


	4. Ch3 Apples with Pines

**Chapter 3 - Apples with Pines or Is It the Other Way Around?**

It was a quiet ride back to Psych, surprisingly. Gus was looking at him strange out of the corner of his eye. But he had to focus because his thoughts were split between figuring out the case and what happened last night.

"So what did you 'divine' this time that you couldn't tell me in the car?" Gus questioned as they stepped through the doors of the Psych office.

He made sure to put the closed sign in the window and lock the doors. Making his way into the main office area, he took a moment to admire his five-foot tall fountain in the corner before turning to Gus.

"I saw Lassie on the beach last night wait… Three would be early morning? Anyway it was strange. He was wearing something causal for once: T-shirt and running pants."

"So he was probably relieving some stress by running the beach." Gus said sitting in his chair. "You know they've been working on this case for weeks. What were you doing on the beach at that time of night? "

"I was…um…"

Gus gave him a look.

"Me and Dad got into a fight."

"Don't you mean Dad and I?"

"Yeah, yeah but that's not the point; he wasn't running or walking the beach. I found him passed out in the sand."

He saw Gus sit up.

"At first, I thought he was a bum." He giggled at the thought of Lassie being a bum. "So I went over because I was curious and then I saw the blood."

"Blood!? You're sure it was blood?"

"Yea I'm sure. I checked him and he was still breathing. So I went to call 911 and then I remembered I left my phone… somewhere." His eyes caught sight of the little green item. "Oh here it is." He took his phone out of a potted plant on the table, looked at it, "Hmm… missed a phone call," and placed it in his pocket.

Gus gave him a strange look.

He shrugged. "Where was I? Oh yeah, I couldn't just leave him like that, even if it was Lassie. So I tried to wake him and he woke up, but it was weird." He sat down in one of the chairs facing Gus. "He was glaring at me like I ruined his restful sleep. He was so grouchy. Every time I tried to help him, he would push me away. He acted like he wasn't hurt, but he was favoring his left leg and he had scratches all over him."

"Did you ask him why he was like that?"

"Don't you think I did that? He didn't say anything. He just stood there staring out at the ocean. I thought he was in shock or something." He leaned back and spun his chair around.

"Maybe he was. Did you see any wounds on his head?"

"None that I could see and he wouldn't let me touch him." He said looking up at the ceiling.

"Maybe he was drunk. Did you check for that?"

"_Hmm… never thought of that."_ Thinking, he slowed the chair spinning and started a side to side motion. "I don't remember smelling any alcohol on him. But get this," He added, looking over a Gus, "after standing there for I don't know how long, he suddenly says 'At least the sky is beautiful' and he walks off toward the streets. I couldn't just let him wander off by himself, so I followed him. Then he growls at me and tells me to go home, puppy."

Gus smirked at the mention of him being called a puppy by Lassie.

"That's not even the strangest part." He stopped the movement and stared straight at his friend. "When he told me that, his eyes were different. Glowing maybe? I don't know how to describe it. But once I gained my senses back he had disappeared."

"Gained your senses?"

"What? I was shocked by the weirdness."

"Maybe he was sleepwalking."

"Sleepwalking, I thought of that, but at the station, he didn't have any signs of what I saw from the beach. No scratches and no limping."

"Maybe you were the one sleepwalking and you imagined him being there."

He shook his head. "I drove my motorcycle to the beach and back. I was wide awake."

"Well, I don't know what to say. You'll have to ask Lassiter about it later."

"I already did. He was either avoiding the question or he really didn't know what I was talking about."

He looked down pondering. "I figure the red Jello would lead to a reaction or something…"

"Shawn."

"_Maybe I should've taken the more direct approach…"_ Something hit him in the head and he looked up to see the glaring face of Gus.

"Shawn, we need to focus on this case first. Worry about Lassiter later. It could be nothing." Gus closed the case folder he had in hand. "So what are your thoughts about the case..?. Oh wait I forgot you weren't paying attention during the briefing." Frowning, Gus tossed the folder on the table in front of him.

"Don't worry. I looked at the file already." He stood up, stretching.

"When? I've had it the whole time."

He grinned. "I kind of borrowed it a couple of days ago when Lassie wasn't looking. But I will need an update."

Gus sighed and read his notes.

"So there are four bodies: two females and two males. The first one was found five weeks ago, the second two weeks, the third four days ago, and the fourth early this morning. All were mutilated, throats torn, organ ripped out, and partly eaten. It was thought that they were attacked by a rabid animal, but the autopsy revealed knife cuts on the body. No physical evidence was left at the scenes to reveal any suspects, but the remains of a jacket were found a couple of yards away from the most recent body. Signs of a struggle were also noted, along with suspicious blood splatter, which is currently being tested."

He spread the case file pictures across the table and studied them for a moment

Then he blurted out…

"The murderer is a werewolf."

He could feel Gus' wide eyes before he heard the "What!?" He looked up at his friend with a serious face.

"You're kidding, right?" Gus asked.

He shook his head and then he couldn't help but laugh at Gus' expression. "Man, Gus, you are so fun to mess with."

"Shawn, this is not a joking matter," His friend huffed.

"Okay I give." He joked with hands raised.

Looking back at the pictures, he pointed to one of a smiling 20 something year old with long blond hair and blue eyes.

"So tell me about the missing person."

Gus gave him a look before reading what was in the file.

"Allison Marks. She and the recent victim were reported to have left a party together yesterday evening. She didn't make it home, either, and her body wasn't found near the scene."

"No evidence. No suspects, although Ms. Marks could be." Mumbling, he glanced at the pictures again. His eyes spotted something and he picked up the two photos. Not believing what his eyes was telling him, he studied the pictures turning them in his hands.

"Uh oh."

Noticing his distress, Gus walked over. "What's wrong?"

He turned the photos away from him, giving his friend a good view of the pictures.

"I'm hoping that this jacket was stolen because if it's not." Dropping the photos on the table, he pointed to the picture with the front of the jacket. "This is going to put a certain detective in the hot seat…again."

The tag on the collar had a small, but clearly handwritten CL on it.

Gus looked on and added, "CL could mean anything."

He pointed up his right index finger. "You are right about that, but Lassie has a certain way of writing his C's and L's."

"So let me get this straight, Lassiter could be involved in this murder in some kind of way." Gus looked sad.

"I know. It looks bad. Maybe someone's trying to frame him. It happened once. We should go by that crime scene, so I can get a clearer picture."

Gus nodded, and then he saw his friend's expression light up. "Shawn, what time did you see Lassiter on the beach?"

"Around three, why?"

Gus paled. "The estimated time of death for the recent victim was between two and three AM."

"Don't jump to conclusions. Even a speed runner wouldn't make it from Parma Park to the beach on foot in that amount of time, especially in his condition."

"What about his car? It would only take less than half an hour."

"I didn't see his car, but he could've easily parked blocks away. But why park blocks away?"

He looked at the fountain mentally sifting through connecting scenarios.

He looked back at Gus. "I think I have it. Lassie must've stumbled on the killer in the middle of the act. He fought with the killer and was knocked unconscious. The killer, thinking he was dead…"

"Must've dumped him on the beach."

He nodded his head.

"But Shawn isn't that a little farfetched. I mean, from what you said Lassiter didn't even react to being knocked out or injured. And how can you not tell the difference between dead and unconscious?"

He just shrugged and said offhandedly the first thing his mind came up with.

"Maybe they needed him alive…"

He looked at Gus and Gus looked at him. At the same time, they both exclaimed.

"To frame him!"

"To drug him!"

Gus gave him a funny look.

"What? I knew what you were going to say. I wanted to say something else."

His friend just rolled his eyes.

"You know we need to go let Lassiter and the Chief know about this. Where were Juliet and Lassiter heading to in a hurry?"

"Oh they got some tip about a warehouse near…" An image of Lassie smiling floated in his mind. "…Parma Park."

He didn't know why Lassie smiling this morning disturbed him so much, now. He had seen Lassie smile a few times before.

Maybe it was the eyes, something hidden within them.

A shiver went through his body and he felt his color drain.

"Shawn, what's wrong?"

"We need to get to where Jules and Lassie are. I'm getting some bad vibes and I don't mean the psychic ones."

Gus was looking at him strange.

"No time to explain." And he rushed out of the office. His confused friend soon followed, being mindful to lock the doors behind them.

In recorded time, they arrived at their location. They spotted Lassie's car and Gus parked the Echo right behind it.

"_Looks like back-up was called and I don't see Jules or Lassie. That's not a good sign."_

Three cop cars were blocking the entrance to the main building.

"How did you know they were going to be here?" Gus asked.

"I overheard the address when Lassie was talking on the phone."

"So how are we going to find them? That place looks huge."

"How else? We start with one and work our way around."

He stepped out of the car and Gus followed.

He could already see there was going to be trouble because he didn't know any of the officers patrolling the entrance.

But he and Gus strolled over confidently.

One officer spotted them and rushed to cut them off.

"This is official police business. No civilians allowed. Leave the area right now."

He tried to inject, but the officer stopped it with a threat of jail time for inferring with police work.

"What do we do now?" Gus questioned once they were back beside the car.

He looked at Gus. "What we always do: improvise." He pointed to the building on the left. "…by getting in the next building. They have that one covered anyway."

Seeing that the officers were occupied, they ran over to the next building's entrance. The door was locked, but he found a loose board in a window. They entered the dark interior. Gus pulled out two small flashlights and handed one to him. He looked at him grateful and Gus responded with a "Someone has to be the responsible one" speech.

He walked off leaving Gus to continue his speech alone.

The interior was huge. There was machinery and discarded furniture around, but overall, it looked like the building was used for storage and transport. He pointed the flashlight around then down to the ground. Fresh shoe prints could be seen in the mixture of sawdust and dirt.

"Shawn! Why do you keep leaving me when I'm talking to you?"

"Maybe it's because I found something." He followed the prints with the flashlight and its light illuminated a dark passage leading downward. "And you're boring me."

"I am not boring, Shawn." Gus folded arms in a huff. "Anyway, we found where they are. Let's get back outside, so you can divine the officers in the right direction."

"Nope, Jules is waiting." He looked at his friend. He noticed the familiar scared posture. "We don't have time to wait for them to figure this out." He turned and headed down the stairs. Noticing his friend not following, he went back and pulled him down the stairs with him.

"_Jules, I hope you're okay. Just hold on for me." _

**Author Note: Hmm… Was Lassiter really on the beach and at the crime scene before it was a crime scene? Will Juliet be okay? Will Shawn and Gus be okay? No, Yes, Maybe, I don't know…**

**Pieces will be revealed in the next chapter: Time to See the Sun Lassie, Baby.**


	5. Ch4 Time to See the Sun Lassie, Baby

**Chapter 4 - Time to See the Sun Lassie, Baby**

His vision was fuzzy.

"I can't believe that fall was enough to knock him out. I understand the lady, but him. Leo, are you sure this is the right guy?"

His head felt funny.

"I'm positive."

And he couldn't move. He groaned.

"Hey look, he's waking."

"Wakey, wakey."

He felt a rough hand lightly slap his cheek.

His dazed eyes slid around the room and the long wooden table he sat at before settling on the slummed figure sitting across from him. Realization hit him and his eyes sprung open.

"O'Hara!" He yelled trying to stand up only to discover his arms and legs attached to the chair by zip ties.

Someone laughed to his right side. Frowning, he looked over. A big man stood there with rough, tanned skin and dark hair mopping his head wildly.

He couldn't see any other details because the single light source hanging overhead created long and dark shadows beyond its halo.

He struggled some more calling to his partner again.

"You know that won't work, so please stop struggling." A distinctly feminine voice hummed from just behind O'Hara.

"_So there's more than one. But back-up should be here or close to getting here. I know they couldn't have had enough time to move us very far and by the looks of it, we're still in one of the buildings. I just have to buy time until they find us."_

His glaring eyes bounced between the area behind O'Hara and the man beside him.

"Release me and my partner now or you will be leaving this area in body bags."

"You're in no position to make threats." The woman purred.

His eyes trained on the woman in the darkness.

_She's the more talkative one. Just maybe… _Are you responsible for all the Parma Park murders?"

"Me? No. I didn't kill anyone. But Bear could have-"

"Can I just kill him, so we can leave?" Bear said beside him in a gruff voice.

"No. Remember the plan." The woman stressed.

He looked at Bear.

"Is this some act of revenge? Who did I put behind bars? Your brother?" He sneered when he saw the guy's fist ball up. "Your sister, friend…? Maybe your mother or your fath-"

"That's enough."

His head jerked toward the source, a far corner of the darkness to the right of the woman. It shifted.

"I guess we have wasted enough time." A man wearing a black cowboy hat stepped into the light. The man glanced up before settling his eyes on him. "Your back-up just arrived upstairs, but it'll take them a while to find this place."

"So Leo, what do you want us to do?" The woman asked from her position.

Leo glanced at the woman. "Keep her quiet and sleeping. She's of no interest." Leo's dark eyes turned to meet his. "You on the other hand," His wallet appeared on the table, along with his golden badge. "Mr. Head Detective, are very interesting to me and my little group." Leo smiled and pointed to his nose with a glove-covered finger. "I was right in thinking you were a cop, but I didn't expect you to hold such a high position of authority." His hand dropped to his side. "With that in mind, I'm extremely surprised you were the one to check on our tip. You see, we had a different plan in mind, but it's kind of fate that our target fell into our hands so easily."

"So you called in the tip to get at me? If that's the case, let O'Hara go."

"No, I'll keep her here." Leo walked to his partner and petted her head. "She's a fighter; a weak one, but a fighter nonetheless and I like fighters. They have an irresistible taste to them. Wouldn't you agree?" Leo looked at Bear who responded with a grunt. "And plus, her safety will keep you pacified and compliant, considering what happened last night."

"_Last night?" _Spencer's ramblings about seeing him on the beach flew through his mind. _"Was Spencer right about me being somewhere last night? But_ _there is no way I could be in two different places at once_. _Because the body was found in the woods, but I know I was at home sleeping_."

"You look confused." Leo grinned and walked toward him. "Don't you remember?"

He didn't answer; instead he placed a neutral expression on his face.

"Don't worry. We all went through that phase at one point or another, pushing certain thoughts away and denying what we know inside is true because **they** don't understand."

"_What phase? Who doesn't understand? What is this man talking about?"_

"Now, before I say any more, I have a proposition to lie on the table." Leo then laid three guns in the middle of the table; two of which he recognized as his own and the other he assume was O'Hara's. "We will release you and your female pet, if you do one simple request."

Scowling, his eyes narrowed at the reference of O'Hara as his pet.

Bear snorted at his expression. Leo threw a quick glare toward Bear before continuing.

"Also harm will not come to her from us throughout the duration of the request. But," Leo's dark eyes turned back to him, "if you don't agree or try to stall for time, then your pets upstairs will find you and this female in pieces throughout this building and the surrounding area."

He looked at O'Hara, then looked up at Leo and sneered. "You should know cops never make deals with criminals."

Leo glanced at the woman and nodded.

Something silver glinted in her hand and she placed it on the neck of his partner.

"Think carefully about your answer." Leo warned. "Because we aren't afraid to make you and her suffer a very slow and painful death."

He swallowed hard.

"_Should I really make a deal with these psychos?" _

Both his life and the life of his partner were at stake. If it was just him here, he wouldn't give in to any deals, no matter the cost.

Silver shifted in darkness, but he kept his eyes trained on Leo.

"What is it you want?"

Leo smirked placing a hand in his pocket.

The man next to him cracked his knuckles.


	6. Ch5 Freeing Jules from the Dragon

**Before you read. **

**This will be one of those disturbing chapters I was talking about earlier. If you get sick or something about blood and gore, then please don't continue. If you're like me, then continue on and be my guest. It only gets worst…**

**You have been WARNED!**

**Chapter 5 – Freeing Jules from the Dragon**

"Jules, wake up."

She could feel someone shaking her.

Her vision swum and it quickly corrected when a face appeared inches from her. In reaction, she punched them and stood up taking a defensive stance.

"Jules!"

Her mind cleared and she looked at her attacker on the floor.

It was Shawn.

"What was that for?" He was rubbing his jaw.

"Oh I'm sorry, Shawn." She said in concern before helping him up.

"See I told you that was a bad idea." Gus said putting a Swiss army knife back in his pocket.

"But the princess is supposed to be awakened by a kiss from her knight in shining armor."

Smiling, she pushed Shawn.

"Ow. Hey what's that on your cheek?" He reached out and she backed away thinking it was another trick to get a kiss, but he quickly grabbed her and pulled her to him. He rubbed a finger on her cheek and looked at it. Red coated his finger.

"This is either paint or something else and I'm voting on the something else."

"Blood?"

"Um…Shawn, Jules I think you should look at this." Gus pointed his flashlight on the table. A bloody knife sat in its halo.

Disconnected images spurred through her mind.

_Gleaming silver, a woman screaming, streaks of red, and… _

"_Carlton." _

Glancing around she hoped to see her partner standing somewhere around them pouting, but all her eyes saw was darkness, a little glow from the dying lantern sitting on the table where she was, and the two flashlights now aimed at the floor.

"Where's Carlton?" She voiced out, but the look they gave her was enough information she needed.

She grabbed the flashlight out of Shawn's hand, ignoring his protest. Praying that she was not about to find what her brain was telling her, she ventured down the length of the table. She ran across a pile of three guns, two standard issued and one custom-made. She recognized one as her own and quickly checked it before venturing on.

A little further down, she found Carlton's wallet and badge. Shawn muttered something sarcastic. She glared at him, but she had the feeling his remark was done more to cover his uneasiness than to do harm. She checked the contents. All important stuff was seemly accounted for and she pocketed the wallet and badge.

She continued and stopped when the carpet started to squish. She knew what that meant and she angled the flashlight downward catching a glimpse of the darken carpet. Aiming her gun out, she continued down slowly. Behind her, she heard Gus whimper and Shawn trying to comfort him.

She made it to the other side of the room and a large side of her wished she hadn't.

Blood was everywhere. There were even globs of tissue and skin intermixed on the table and floor.

She could smell the blood long before she could see it, but the sight of it seemed to intensify everything making her nauseous.

And if she was feeling this way then…

She looked back to see Shawn struggling to hold up a passed out Gus.

"Breathe through your mouth. It'll make it easier." She said to them before focusing on the scene.

She had to find her partner.

"_I don't know what I'll do if…"_ Her thoughts trailed off.

With gun trained, she slowly stepped over to the end of the table and discovered a downed, bloodless chair. She looked around. There was no dead body or _"dead"_ Carlton to be found.

With flashlight in hand, Shawn walked over to her, guiding a pale Gus, who had his eyes closed. She relaxed her tensed muscles. Worry was still on her mind.

"Don't worry. Lassie's still alive." He said pointing to his temple with a slight smile.

She nodded giving a small smile herself and then she turned back to the chair. She noticed a dark trail leading around and away from the chair. She followed it and it lead to another exit from the room. The door was slightly cracked and red glistened from the handle.

She steeled herself for what laid beyond the door. Swallowing hard, she trained her gun and pushed the door opened.

It revealed a long dark hallway in both directions. She shined the flashlight in the darkness. The blood trail curved to the left, down the rest of the hallway, and to the right around a corner. She glanced at Shawn and Gus before cautiously starting her trek.

About a few feet from the corner, she heard a strange crunching noise. She glanced at Shawn and Gus and held a finger to her lips. She edged down the hallway and peeked around the corner.

It was too dark to see, but she could make out a silhouette of something crouch low at the end of the short hallway.

She pulled her head back.

"_What should I do? Carlton could be down there hurting." _She swallowed knowing what she was about to do was against all common sense and protocol._ "Shawn must be rubbing off on me."_

She counted to three and then jumped out with her gun and flashlight trained on the shadow's position.

"SBPD! Put your hands up." She yelled.

It looked up with a snarl. Intense red flared from its skin.

Startled by the sight, the flashlight dropped from her grip.

Twin orbs glowed in the darkness of the hallway before fleeing from the body on the ground and disappearing around the corner.

She looked over to see Shawn and Gus just as wide-eyed as she was.

**Author Note: So… A little Shules flirting and a BIG cliffhanger.** **As a way to even the pain because of this cliffy, I'll let you know, it was the biggest pain in the butt to keep track of those flashlights while writing this and the next scene. **

***Whispered spoiler*: "They find a body and the motive's not robbery."** **But you probably know that. So… I'll give ya something else to chew on.**

**Next Chapter: Knights Were Never Good At Saving Themselves**


	7. Ch6 Knights Were Never Good At Saving

**Chapter 6 - Knights Were Never Good At Saving Themselves **

"Did we just see that?"

"Yeah Shawn we did." His friend answered.

"What was that?"

"I..I don't know." Gus stuttered.

He glanced at Jules. She was still and silent. He picked up the flashlight and handed it back to her. She took it hesitantly. He had a feeling what was going through her mind.

"Don't worry. Didn't I tell you Lassie's still alive?" He saw her head nod slowly. Turning back to Gus, he said. "Well let's go check it out."

Gus paled even more. "Nope."

"_If he pales any more, we might be mistaken for brothers."_ He thought and grabbed Gus' hand, who then yanked it back.

"Horror movie 101: The Black guy always gets killed. I am not up for getting killed today, Shawn." Gus said, folding his arms.

He sighed. _"Gus is so difficult sometimes."_

Reaching over, he tried to pry Gus' right hand out. His friend fought back. He pulled some more and his friend pulled back. This went on for a good minute before Gus gave up.

"And Horror movie 386: Make sure to have a good weapon." He took his friend's flashlight and replaced it with a Glock.

Surprisingly, Gus didn't seem too worry about losing his flashlight; instead he was more worried about where the gun came from.

"Where did you get this?"

He rolled his eyes. "Off the table. I have one, too. See." He showed his. "Just don't lose it or Lassie will be very upset."

"This is Lassiter's?" With a shaking hand, Gus held the gun out like it was a precious treasure with a mummy's curse.

He sighed again and made his way to Jules. He rubbed her shoulder and pointed down the hallway. She nodded. Her unfocused expression turned serious. He started to slowly walk down the hallway with Jules behind him and Gus behind her.

Soon his flashlight came up on the dark form of the body. Jules hurried past him and he heard her sigh in slight relief.

"_Now we know it's not Lassie. But where is he?"_ He looked back at his friend. Gus was looking back down the hall away from them; a small flashlight sat in his hand.

"How many of those does he have?" He mumbled low.

He shook his head and looked at the body.

"_Black jacket, blue jeans, and sneakers with what use to be a light color shirt."_

"It's the missing girl." He heard Jules note softly.

"_Chest split open by…"_ He studied the cleanness of the wound. _"A knife."_ An image of the knife sitting on the table came to mind.

He looked at her face. _"Most likely while she was alive."_

He frowned noticing the various bracelets and rings she still had.

"_Motive: Not robbery."_

But he knew that.

"_Some of her organs are missing. It's the same MO as the others, except her lower right arm is missing. Looks…"_

He crouched down to get a good look and a sudden noise down the hallway had everyone pointing their flashlights in that direction.

The same direction where that thing had disappeared to.

By the time he fully stood up, Jules was already venturing down the hallway at a slow pace.

"_Man, she looks sexy in that cop pose."_

shaking his head clear of the other thoughts that had popped up with that randomness, he hurried to catch up, dragging a reluctant Gus along.

He caught up to her when she paused looking at the dead end hallway with three doors and three choices. Her flashlight scanned the carpet. He could tell it was clear of any trail in her eyes, but with his eyes, he spotted faint red droplets heading to the right: the women's restroom. He watched in anticipation as Jules decided to move toward the right and he immediately stopped her with a smile.

"The spirits are telling me, it's in there." He pointed toward the left at the men's restroom. He doubted she would fall for going into the janitor's closet.

She looked at him, but nodded and disappeared into the men's restroom.

He grabbed Gus and pushed him toward the same door. "Gus, go with her and protect her."

"Wait, where are you going?" His friend asked digging his feet into ground making it hard to move him.

"What?" He exclaimed in fake surprise as if the answer was simple. "I always wanted to see what the women's restroom looked like." Gus looked at him in disbelief, but he quickly added, "Just go in. I'll be fine," and then pushed his friend into the men's room. He watched the door close with a light snap, making sure Gus wouldn't come out.

His friend didn't, and he hurried and entered the door across the hall.

"_Now to confront the killer."_

He had a feeling he knew what or rather who was in here, and just in case, he wanted to make sure Jules and Gus would not be harmed.

The restroom was normal, mirrors and sinks on the left and stalls on the right.

He noted the absence of the urinals, but he expected that having first snuck in this forbidden room when he was elementary.

Cautiously, he trained the gun and flashlight out as he was taught many times before and ventured further into the area. Nothing moved and it was unnervingly quiet. He checked the bottom of every stall before opening the door. Before long he was standing in front of the door to the last stall.

Taking a deep breath, he kicked the door open and shined the light and gun. Again nothing greeted him.

He exhaled.

…and then he noticed the missing appendage sitting in the toilet. Its bones were crushed in some places and an accusing finger pointed at him.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and the finger now felt more like a warning.

He quickly turned training both items in hand only to have them quickly disappear from his grasp and a hand wrap around his neck. The light bounced around before dipping everything back in shadow. He struggled clawing at the hand around his neck and kicking out with his feet. In response to his struggle, his attacker gave a deep growl and tossed him into the sinks. His head collided with the mirror and stars filled his vision as the dark world swum. His attacker pinned him against the cool mirror surface with a firm grip on his neck, but suddenly he started to notice the grip slowly slacking. He looked up to see amber eyes focused on the mirror behind him.

Seeing the opportunity, he punched his occupied attacker in the jaw and was thoroughly confused when it had no effect.

"_What the-"_ His thoughts were immediately cleared when his face was backhanded with a snarl. Dazed, he fell to the floor and immediately his attacker was on him pinning his left and right arms with its hands. Frantically looking around through the edge of blackness in his sight,he noticed the gun to his left and he placed all his focus on getting that weapon. A deep growl vibrated and he looked up at his attacker. Molten eyes flashed and he cried out when he felt knifes dig into his right shoulder.

His attacker pulled back and looked at him in a painful haze. Sharp teeth showed in the darkness. It was like slow motion. Those knives moving back down…down to his neck, but then the glow in its eyes dimmed and its body slumped against him. He laid there both confused and relieved at the same time.

Someone helped him roll the heavy weight off of him. Dazed, he smiled at his savior, expecting Jules, but his friend stood there holding a two by four and breathing heavily.

"Thanks buddy for the save."

Gus gave him one of those incriminating looks before helping him sit up. He saw Jules handcuffing his attacker, who was facedown on the tile.

Gus walked off seeing that Jules was making her way toward him.

Her lips were crinkled with concern and a hint of anger.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a few scratches."

"You knew the killer was in here didn't you?"

For once, he had no comment because he knew he had set himself up for that and she took his silence as a yes.

"What were you thinking?"

"Protecting the princess and his jester are what knights do."

He grinned hoping to make her feel better, but a sharp pain in his shoulder made him wince.

And Jules saw it.

* * *

><p>"<em>Stupid Shawn, never thinking before doing something."<em>

He walked over to the flashlight Shawn must have dropped during the struggle.

"_He could've gotten himself killed."_

Glancing back, he saw Juliet checking Shawn's wounds. He shook his head and then collected Shawn's discarded gun.

"_Someone has to make sure Lassiter gets his stuff back". _

Checking the gun and flipping the safety on, he placed it in the waistband of his pants, along with its smaller twin. He was glad he decided to listen to some of Henry's gun tips.

"_And speaking of Lassiter, where is he?"_

He glanced at the unconscious body on the ground. The person was still alive, breaths coming in long and slow by the rhythm of the person's back. His curiosity was teeming. With flashlight poised on the person, it only took a few steps to see their face.

His eyes widen at the sight.

Fresh blood was smear around the face especially around the mouth and nose. He also noted the blood still dripping from the fingers.

But his eyes didn't widen in surprise at the sight or at the sheer amount of blood, nor at the knowledge he just deduced about what the person had been doing.

It widen at the fact that it was…

And then dilated blue eyes sprung open.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6.5 - Awareness is a Two-way Street <strong>

Slowly gaining consciousness, he opened eyes he didn't remember closing. Bright light blinded his vision and he found himself lying prone on a hard surface. He tried to move away from the intense light, but pain flooded his head and travelled downward.

Closing his eyes, he groaned.

"_What happened? I remember leaving O'Hara in that room and then nothing."_

By the intensity of pain in his arms and head, he could tell his wrists were tied behind his back and that he was hit in the head at one point.

Footsteps resound in front of his face and then moved away from his head, carrying the light source with it. Stars dotted in his closed vision.

"_Someone's here."_

He kept his eyes closed and thinned his breathing.

Voices rose and he registered not one, but three people in the room: two men and one woman.

Pieces seemed to click in his slowly clearing head and his mind conjured Leo and his companions: two men and one woman.

"_Was this round two?"_

Based off the feel of the floor, he knew he wasn't back in that room. That room had carpet. This one had tile.

He hoped O'Hara was okay.

"_But what if she's not."_ He mentally shook his head trying to clear the image of her broken body, but it stuck.

"_Could I have failed twice?"_

Sadness, quickly gave way to anger.

He opened his eyes staring off center from the returned, blinding light.

"Bastard!" He yelled and then bit his tongue when he felt a sharp jolt of pain.

The voices stopped and silhouettes appeared beyond the light.

"What happened to the deal?" He spat. "I did everything you asked. You better not have…" The rest died on his lips as his partner's face flooded his vision. His face softened. He wanted to reach out and touch her to know if she was real, that she wasn't back in that room lying dead in a pool of her own blood.

Her mouth was moving, but the words sounded distorted and jumbled.

He opened his mouth to say something. A wheeze came out. He didn't realize he was having difficulty breathing.

His body felt heavy and his vision was getting hazy, but he fought to look her in the eye.

"Please…" He whispered. "Forgive me… Juliet."

* * *

><p>"Carlton?"<p>

She could see his eyes fading and blood was flowing from his head.

"_He could have a concussion." _She thought and then yelled out,"Carlton, stay with me! Don't go to sleep."

She tapped his cheek and shook his shoulders, but he went limp. Then, she noticed the wheezing sound.

Quickly uncuffing his hands, she rolled him over on his back and asked Shawn for his jacket. The item was quickly handed over, and she used it to prop his head off the ground. She tilted his head back a little to open his airway. After a moment or so, the wheezing soon stopped and she breathed a sigh.

She looked up at Shawn. It looked like he wanted to say something and his eyes kept glancing at Carlton.

She really didn't want to hear any of his theories right now.

"Shawn. Go stand outside the room, so Gus and the paramedics will know where we are."

Shawn continued to stand there, a protective look in his eyes.

"I'll yell if something happens. Just go."

Hesitantly, he left without a word taking her flashlight with him.

Many questions and thoughts flooded her mind as she waited in the dark and listened to her partner's now steady breathing.

But all questions boiled down to one.

"_What happened in that room?"_

That question she desperately wanted answered and she was going to get it.

**Author Note: That little tag (6.5) was supposed to be chapter 7, but it was so short. Tags like this will pop up again and chapter titles will always give a little piece to the ever-growing puzzle.**


	8. Ch7 Green is an All knowing Color

**Chapter 7 - Green is an All-knowing Color**

"_God, I can't stand bright light, especially when my head hurts."_

He rolled over or tried to.

"_What's this?"_

His head was fastened to some kind of red foam brace. He tried to reach up to his face, but found his arms also fastened down, along with his legs.

"_Being incapacitated is so not in my nature."_ He pulled at the bonds on his right arm testing the material. _"Hmm…"_

Someone's hand grabbed his arm stopping his movements and a man's face appeared in his vision. Thankfully blocking the light, but skewing his features in shadow.

"Sir. Calm down. You are in safe hands." The man then looked up at someone outside his view. "What's his name?" The man nodded at the answer. "Mr. Lassiter, can you hear me?"

"_What kind of stupid question is that?"_ He thought, but answered with a yes.

"Do you know today's date?"

He answered the question 'with flying colors.'

"Do you know where you are?"

"_Of course I know where I am."_ He looked around his restricted view. _"Wait…I don't know where I am or why I'm even here."_ He frowned.

The man took his expression as a 'No'.

"Mr. Lassiter, you are in an ambulance. You have a mild concussion, some contusions, and a wound on both your wrists. We've treated what we could. The brace and straps are just to make sure you don't further injure yourself, if you happen to have any hidden injuries. We haven't left the scene yet because you were too unstable for transport, and we're actually surprise you are now awake and coherent. I know you're uncomfortable, but hold on for a few minutes while we get the go-ahead to leave."

The man then left his vision and he felt the vehicle rock as he exited.

He sighed.

Ambulances lead to the hospital and he knew he couldn't go there now, not in this condition.

He pulled at the right strap again. It didn't give.

"_I'm not even supposed to be here. Unless… Something must've happened."_

He tugged again a little more fiercely. The strap gave, but didn't let go. He shook his hand and it fell away. Quickly, he undid the straps across his shoulders, his stomach, and his left arm. He sat up. No one was standing by the open doors. He reached down to undo the leg straps and noticed the familiar red tinge on his hands.

"_Carlton, what did you get yourself into?"_

Not expecting an answer, he undid the leg straps and the weird head brace. As he stood up, his head swooned a little, but the feeling quickly left.

He peeked out the vehicle. Uniformed people were milling around. Some were in small groups, but lucky for him no one seemed to be facing his way. He stepped out and quickly went to the side of the ambulance facing away from the majority of the crowd.

"_Now, how to leave without anyone spotting me?"_ He spotted his car parked a few feet away from the front of the ambulance. His suit jacket was missing, but fortunately his keys were in his pants' pocket, along with a small notepad. It would be easy to just take the car, but he knew taking the car would be the worst option for someone in his predicament.

His eyes scanned the area and spotted the only safe exit, an entrance to a dark alley by his car. He knew enough of the area to travel back home on foot.

"_That's my ticket. I'll be home in no time, and he can deal with this mess, that he made, in the morning."_ He left the cover of the vehicle.

His attention was so focused on getting to the darkness of that alley, he didn't notice the person calling his name until they ran up to him and stood right in his way.

He stopped, frowning at himself for not looking back at the warehouse before leaving his cover. Settling into an impassively stance, he looked at her.

"Carlton, what are you doing walking around?" The woman asked with concern and a little bit of fire in her eyes.

He didn't answer; instead he glanced at the alley.

She saw him looking away and followed his line of sight. "Don't you dare think of driving, not in your condition. You are going back to the paramedics, if I have to drag you back there." She reached to grab his arm and he stepped away.

"No hospitals." He stated bluntly.

She rolled her eyes. "Sometimes you are such a baby. You need to get better."

He jumped away when she tried to grab him again.

She glared and continued saying, "So I can put you back in there for worrying me."

"You should listen to her, Lassie. You don't look so good." Someone voiced rather mockingly behind him.

He looked back and his frown deepened when he realized who was making his way toward them. The pest and his friend walked over and took a spot next to the woman.

This was exactly why he didn't want to be spotted.

"_I don't know these people as personable as he does. I can't even remember their names."_

But he knew how annoying one of them could be…

He gave the group a quick look over before saying with a glare, "Now that he is here, I'll take my leave," And as he went between her and the new arrivals, he grabbed the shoulder of the pain-in-the-ass. "And do not think about following me this time." He growled giving a quick squeeze.

He enjoyed the reaction he got: the whimpering cry.

"Bastard." He heard the pest say through gritted teeth.

Smirking, he walked past them.

And then his smirk fell away when he realized he hadn't squeezed that hard to get that kind of pained reaction. He paused in step and looked at his hand. Fresh blood peppered his palm and he started to notice an odd smell overpowering the usual odor of wood and metal in the area. Wondering, he couldn't help himself from inhaling deeply. A familiar feeling passed through him and his gums started to tingle.

He cursed fully taking notice of the faint coppery taste in his mouth, along with the sight of the contrasting appearances of the little group.

"_I hope what I'm thinking didn't happen."_ He noted still looking at his hand.

Someone pushed him and he looked up at the woman, grateful because he was just about to lick his hand.

"Why did you do that?" She asked with deep fire in her eyes. "You knew he was injured right there."

He shook his head and turned away from her heading back to the injured man.

He pushed the friend away and grabbed the annoying man's jaw, stopping whatever snide remark was about to come out of his mouth. The beginnings of a bruise around the man's neck hadn't entirely escaped him, but that wasn't important. He moved the man's head to the left, pulled down the shirt on his right shoulder, and pulled the bloody bandage off. It revealed a stitched, half-circle bloody wound. He cursed again and let him go.

"_The situation just got worse."_

He stepped back. The sight of the wound had intensified the feeling.

Closing his eyes, he took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself. The feeling passed, but it sat waiting on the edge.

"What was that for?" The man stepped up glaring. "If you wanted to look at your handiwork, you could've just asked."

His eyes flicked open landing on the injured man.

"You, stupid puppy." He growled lowly. He saw the person's eyes widen at the comment.

"What's wrong?"

He turned to the woman. "It's complicated and none of your concern." He stated blankly. "I will deal with the matter."

Anger swelled in her eyes.

"This is none of my concern!? None of my concern! I was knocked unconscious and tied to a chair while they did God knows what to you! When I finally find you, you're cover in blood and attacking Shawn! That is a cause for my concern and from your expression there's more happening than we think. Tell us what's going on. We are here to help."

"Help?" He scoffed, looking up at the stars and then back at the woman. "Helping makes it worse." He spat as a glimpse of a pale face with long, dark hair passed through his mind. "It always makes it worse, and from what I can see, he helped big time and made himself a target."

"A target? Of what?" She asked.

Shaking his head, he turned and walked away from them. The woman grabbed his arm.

"Let me go."

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

"Can't, so let go."

She held on.

"_This is going nowhere." _He thought before growling and yanking his arm away. "Woman, just go back to your house and focus on taking care of your cats. You and your little group will only get in the way."

Her eyes were a blazed and he didn't realize she slapped him until he noticed he was looking back at the ambulance. Two shocked paramedics stood there beside their vehicle.

Somewhere inside he felt hurt. Not because of the slapped, but because of what flew out of his mouth.

He looked back at her; his eyes were blank.

However, in her eyes, anger covered the hidden tears that were welling and threatening to fall.

The puppy and his friend moved to stand protectively in front of her; their expression reflecting the anger in hers.

"Lassie that was harsh, even for your standard."

The two paramedics ran over and stood protectively around him, reprimanding the woman for her actions.

"Why would you do that? Mr. Lassiter's condition is severe. He doesn't know what he's doing." He heard one of them say.

The other one called his name and went to grab his arm. He yanked away from the contact.

"No hospitals." He glared at the paramedic.

He looked back at the woman before his face settled into a neutral expression and he walked away, despite the protest of the people around.

"What happened to you?" He heard whispered behind him.

He almost paused, but decided to continue on, disappearing into the alley.

He understood the feeling she was going through, the mental turmoil of trying to understand something that went against all logic.

Back then he hadn't a clue what was going on. If someone hadn't stopped his downward spiral, then red would have literally flooded the streets. A part of him wanted to tell her everything and save her from a mental spiral of her own, but he couldn't. It wasn't his decision.

Hours later, he made it home in one piece.

An undercover car was sitting outside his house, so he entered through the back.

"_I hope that detour will ease everything until tomorrow night."_

Careful not to leave tracks or turn on any lights, he walked in making a beeline to his bedroom. Grabbing some pajamas, he shut himself in the bathroom and made his way over to turn on the shower. While the water ran, his eyes met with the mirror and he couldn't help, but noted his wild, dirty appearance. Red covered him from head to toe and he bit his tongue to stop himself from punching the mirror.

"_Leo and his group are going pay for opening a door that was supposed to be kept closed."_

He looked away and got undress before stepping into the shower. Once he saw that all the red and dirt was gone, he turned off the water and stepped out wrapping a towel around himself to dry off.

He got dress and his eyes landed on his ruin clothes on the floor.

"_Now, what should I to do with these?"_

The last ruin pair ended up in a trash bag at the bottom of his outside trash can.

"_He won't miss them anyway."_

He shrugged and picked up the clothes. Items clattered out of its pockets.

He looked down. Keys and a small black notebook lay on the floor.

Artifacts of a life he had no connection with.

He frowned.

With being both the Iron Gate and its keeper, he was constantly tip-toeing and cleaning up, making sure the balance was kept.

But with what happened tonight, that delicate balance was being pushed and its collapse would bring down more than just the building. It would completely demolish the surrounding area.

"_Unless…" _He put a finger to his mouth, thinking.

"_I control the direction of where the balance sways… by pushing it myself."_

He knew it was a risk, but something had to be sacrificed for lives to be saved.

And he knew Leo's way was going to end in a repeat of what happened years ago plus a trip to jail, if he didn't end up fatally shot.

"_Just maybe I can guide it toward a less destructive ending."_

Dropping the clothes, he took the notebook.

Opening it, he scribbled a quick message with the small pen attached and closed it, with a slight smile.

"Hopefully this will help ease the transition."

**Author Note:** **Don't be afraid to give me a little feedback. I do write for reaction...** **And I just might share some insight on what's going on in the chapter.**


	9. Ch8 Blue's Ignorance

**Chapter 8 - Blue's Ignorance**

[Thur]

He woke up to the shrill sound of his alarm clock. Groggy, he reached and hit the snooze.

"Just a few more moments." He muttered to no one and rolled over closing his eyes.

A few minutes later his alarm cried again and he moaned hitting the off button. It read 6:15. He had to be at the station for eight. He usually did a short run before cleaning up, eating, and heading to work. But today he felt extra tired, so he turned on the television and laid there with eyes closed. His thoughts drifted as the news played and then they were abruptly brought back at the mentioning of a fifth victim surfacing.

He sat up.

_**In the shell of the Brentford Lumbering factory, a body has been recovered. This property has been cleared for demolition, but will be put on hold because of the discovery. **_

_**The victim's name has not yet been released, however it was stated that this death is in association with another case involving four other victims found in the area. Police are investigating as we speak. If you have any information in concerning with this incident or the others, feel free to call our crime hotline.**_

_**Coming up next, your weather conditions for -**_

He shut off the TV.

Memories surfaced, but they were jumbled. He forced them out in favor of thinking about it after having a clear, caffeinated head.

Reluctantly, he left the warm bed and headed toward the bathroom to start his usual morning routine. He left the bathroom feeling a little refreshed and walked over to the closet. He laid clothes on the bed before ironing what needed to be and putting them on. In the middle of putting his shirt on, the doorbell rang.

"Who would be here this early?" He grumbled buttoning the rest of his shirt.

As he walked to the door he tucked his shirt in his pants and fastened his belt.

"_This better be worth it because if not they're going to end up with a bullet in their leg." _

Placing a frown on his face, he opened the door.

"Do you know what time it is?" He growled before looking at the person.

"Yes Carlton I do."

His eyes met the eyes of his partner and his expression softened with an apology.

"That's the reason why I'm here. I'm taking you to work."

His frown immediately came back. "I have a car. I can get my own self to work." He stepped back and started to close the door. "But thanks for the thought."

She stopped the door from closing with her hand. "Carlton your car isn't here."

He looked at her in disbelief before pushing past her to look at his driveway. Her car, a silver sedan, was sitting where his should be. Glaring he turned looking at her. "Where's my car, O'Hara?"

She had confusion and concern written on her face. "It's still at the warehouse where we left it yesterday. Are you feeling okay?"

Jumbled images entered his mind and he shook them away.

"I need some coffee." He mumbled making his way back into the house. O'Hara entered and closed the door behind her.

"We can get some on the way, if you like."

He just nodded his head and walked back to the bedroom to finish. Five minutes later he was back out fully ready, except for a few important missing items that weren't in their usual place.

O'Hara had claimed a spot on the couch and was watching the news. She seemed to notice his frantic pace and yelled out to him before he entered the kitchen.

"Looking for something?" She said and pulled out his two guns, his wallet and badge from a bag she had carried in. "You left them yesterday. I figured they were important."

He muttered a quick thank you and offered her something to eat.

"No thank you." She answered. "I was planning on picking something up."

He nodded.

As he walked back to the kitchen, he put everything in their proper place on his person.

He paused when he noticed a medium-sized, metal box sitting on the kitchen island and on the floor sat a medium-sized, black trash bag.

"_Where did this come from? And I know I'd never leave trash sitting like that."_

He ventured cautiously over to them. An opened black notebook sat on top of the box. He picked it up and found that it was his black notebook. The one he recently bought to be used for clue gathering on scene.

A message was scribbled on the exposed page.

_**Maybe they were right. Recognition is the route to take. **_

_**It's time to stop running, Carlton.**_

_**-CL **_

**(+)**

**Blue **

**Green **

**Yellow **

**(-)**

**Grandfather **

**13****th**** year **

**Use and keep Calm Flower **

**Stay away from puppy!**

He flipped the page over. It was blank. He looked back at the message, and read it and reread it.

The last part was complete nonsense, but the first part…Memories started to flood his mind and he found the sentence even more disturbing than the rest.

"_There is no way I'm agreeing with those psychos. Who wrote this anyway?"_

The handwriting seemed familiar and the initials could've been there just to mess with his head.

O'Hara called his name from outside the kitchen.

"I'll be there in a moment." He answered back.

He pocketed the notebook in his pants and looked back at the box. Alarmingly, it looked familiar, too, but he couldn't place where he had seen it before. A numerical lock held it close and he didn't know nor have the time to figure out the code, so he switched his attention down at the bag. He tapped it with his foot. Nothing happened and it felt soft. Crouching down, he touched the top of it and then undid the knot. It fell away revealing clothes: bloody clothes.

The images of what they forced him to do resurfaced, and he quickly shut the bag.

"_Recognition my ass. I recognize what I did was disgusting and they're going to pay for it." _

He stood up and made his way over to the counter. Grabbing his keys off it, he walked out of the kitchen.

Before long he and O'Hara were pulling up to the station with satisfied stomachs and coffee in hand.

"_I'm going to make sure those wannabe serial killers never kill anyone ever again."_ He thought walking up the steps to the entrance._ "No one messes with Head Detective Carlton Lassiter without biting a bullet."_

A smirk played across his face as he opened the door to the station.

**Author Note: Poor, clueless Lassie. He didn't even notice his partner's sarcastic voice tone. She is still a little upset. Someone needs to watch their back…**


	10. Ch9 A Message From No One

**Chapter 9 – A Message From No One**

His smirk was still there when he sat at his desk. The station wasn't busy because of the shift change. So it was the perfect time to look over the case, document what he knew about the three people involved, and to look them up in the database.

"_I'm going to bust these bastards."_

Waiting for the computer to load, he reached over to pick up his yellow legal pad from its usual spot on his desk only to discover it missing. His smirk went into a straight line.

He looked in his drawers, not there. He looked in his trays, not there. He looked on the floor and in the wastebasket, not there.

He remembered leaving it on his desk yesterday…

And he also remembered leaving Spencer at his desk… unattended.

Leaning over his desk, he put a hand to his head and took some deep breaths trying to subdue the anger that was building up.

"Carlton."

"What!" He snapped looking up with a glare. His glare was met with indifference from his partner as she tossed a legal pad on his desk.

"Shawn must've left this on my desk and Chief wants to see you in her office."

She walked away.

He stared at her, wide eyed. _"What's wrong with her?"_

Internally shrugging, he chalked it up to the usual female mood swings.

Sliding the pad in front of him, he opened it to the last page of his notes on the Parma Park murders and quickly wrote down what he could remember about the three people.

Their attire:

Their mannerism:

Their motive:

Then he remembered Leo mentioning an Ethan and something about stema. He wrote those down.

Closing the legal pad and tucking it in his top drawer, he stood up and made his way to Chief Vick's office. He glanced at O'Hara, who was busy at her desk. Her whole demeanor had changed since entering the station.

He knocked on the Chief Vick's blind-covered door and opened it when he heard her answer. She was sitting at her desk flipping through paperwork.

"You called me, Chief."

"Detective Lassiter, close the door." He did as he was told and she closed the folder before meeting her eyes with his. "I've just spoken with Detective O'Hara on what happened yesterday at the Brentford factory. From her account, many things occurred including you and her being taken hostage at one point. I want you to write me a recount of your side of the events." She held out the familiar statement forms. "And give it back to me when you are finished."

He accepted the papers from her.

"You can use one of the empty conference rooms." She said and diverted her attention back to the paperwork on her desk. Figuring she was done talking, he walked out heading toward the nearest unoccupied room.

An hour later, he stepped out of the conference room. Quickly, he placed his statement on the Chief's unoccupied desk and walked back out, determined to do something to get the memory of the girl's screams out of his head. He settled on grabbing a cup of coffee, which didn't taste as filling as the one from Starbucks this morning, but he sipped it as he sat at his desk.

The memory disappeared a bit.

Logging in to the computer, he pulled out the case file and the legal pad again. He opened the database and set his fingers on the keyboard thinking.

The descriptions he had of the three people were too general and were more likely to receive over a thousand hits. Even the mentioning of an actually person's name, like Ethan, was going to be a pointless search. Leo and Bear were more or less nicknames.

"_There has to be something specific I can use to search the database with. Leo did say something about checking my stema, whatever that means."_

He pulled up Google and put stema in the box. Information about a steel company and a hotel in Greece popped up. He scrolled down, nothing useful. He sighed and pulled the case file in front of him.

A shadow loomed over him as he flipped through its pages. He ignored it.

"Detective Lassiter, sir."

He looked up annoyed. A nervous Buzz McNab stood beside his desk.

"You dropped this by the coffee pot." McNab held out a small black notebook and added quickly. "I didn't look in it."

He accepted the book and muttered a thank you before turning his attention back to the case file. He felt McNab hover there for a moment before hurrying away.

After reviewing the file and his notes for a second time, he sighed leaning back in his chair.

"_This is getting nowhere."_

The station was buzzing with activity. He noticed a few officers glancing at him and giving him strange looks.

"_They must be gossiping about what happened."_

He ignored it, trying to keep himself from yelling at them.

"_The case is what matters." _He thought, and then quickly added. _"Leo did say they were going to contact me for the next step, whatever that is. And when they do I'll make sure to set a little trap of my own."_

He smiled at the spying officers, who quickly turned and walked away, acting as if they were doing something important. He dropped the smile when they were out of his line of sight.

"What to do until then?" He muttered.

Looking at his desk, his eyes slid to the black notebook.

"_Maybe this was a clue to the second step …or it could be nonsense."_

He picked it up and flipped to the page of interest. After reading it three times, he tossed the notebook on his desk.

"_I still don't understand. The first sentence is directed at me, obviously. The colors could mean anything. The year, grandfather, and flower could have a connection to Leo or to something else, and the last statement seems totally random. Unless…"_ His mind pulled up a certain pet statement Leo made. _"He was talking about…"_

He looked over to his partner's desk. She wasn't there and his heart thumped in his chest. He almost stood up, but his eyes caught sight of O'Hara talking to the Chief in her office. Leaning back, he exhaled and rubbed a hand on his face.

"Stop jumping to conclusions." He muttered to himself.

He looked at the notebook again. _"Why would he want me to stay away from her?"_

His eyes wandered to the open legal pad and he sat up taking notice of something.

"_This can't be right."_

He pulled the two next to each other, comparing.

"There's no way this could be right." He muttered.

He grabbed a pen out of his desk holder and wrote on the next page of the notebook.

_**Maybe they were right. **_

He flipped between the two pages.

Although the original was haphazardly written, the similarities were uncanny.

"What the…"

"Carlton."

He looked up, quickly covering his confusion with a neutral expression. His partner stood there with an odd look on her face.

"Chief wants you in her office, again."

Her eyes drifted and he slid a hand over the notebook.

"Okay." He nodded his head and stood up.

She turned and walked away. Following O'Hara, he pocketed the notebook in his jacket, praying that it would not fall out again.

He stepped in the office behind O'Hara. Chief was looking at some paperwork.

"Okay Chief, he's here. I'll be taking my leave."

"No O'Hara. Stay. I need to talk to you, too."

Chief Vick wrote something down and then looked up at them.

"I've reviewed both your statements. It's obvious yesterday was a very eventful evening and I can see that both of you aren't at your peak today. I want you both to go home early and get some rest."

"But Chief…" He and O'Hara protested at the same time.

"No buts. Go get some sleep and I don't want to see any of you until tomorrow. I'll call if something major comes up. O'Hara, you're dismissed."

He glanced at his partner. She looked at him and walked out closing the door behind her.

"Chief, I don't…"

Chief Vick gave him a looked. He immediately shut his mouth.

"Now based on both you and O'Hara's statements, it seems you were acting out of character last night and that you don't remember. I want you to go get some test done to make sure nothing is in your system. After that, you can leave. The clinic already has instructions. You are dismissed."

He nodded his head and walked out.

O'Hara was back at her desk talking on her cell phone. Their eyes briefly met before she turned away from him. The Chief's words were turning in his head. 

"_You were acting out of character…"_

He turned away heading toward the department's clinic.

With the way his partner was acting, it seemed to all click.

"_I hope I didn't go back in that room."_

But O'Hara looked fine.

"_Unless something else happened when I blacked out."_

The thought hung in the air and as he pushed open the doors to the clinic, he shove away everything to focus on getting these tests done as fast as possible.

An hour and a half later, he was stepping out; a sour expression plastered on his face.

"_Chief didn't mention that they were going to do the full run through. I've wasted so much time."_

Heading back to his desk, O'Hara jumped in front of him before he could pass her desk.

A smile was on her face.

"Hey Carlton, you want to go get lunch?" O'Hara asked. "Then we can go get your car."

He gave her a strange look before nodding his head.

"_What is up with these sudden mood changes?"_

**Author Note: Who thinks Juliet has something up her sleeve? *raises hand.* **

**I know the police department wouldn't have a full fledge clinic. But for convenience purposes, it must be done. The show did the same with giving them a morgue. **

**And a quick fact about this chapter, the Google search was real. I didn't know what it meant either, but now I do. Also there's something intentionally wrong in the chapter. It'll appear in a later chapter, fully corrected and you will have an 'Oh' moment, when you figure it out. Unless you already figured it out. Then kudos to you!**


	11. Ch10 Ever Hunger for Suspicion?

**AN: So I've been busy and missed my usual Friday update. To make up for that, I'm going to tag Chapter 11 to this chapter as 10.5. They go together anyway and maybe it'll ease the fact that I won't be updating until Wednesday. So 2 for 1.**

**Chapter 10 – Ever Hunger for Suspicion?**

They rode in relative silence. She glanced to her right. Carlton was staring out the side window, deep in thought.

He puzzled her.

She had been mad at him for what he did last night, and this morning, she had thought about making him find his own way to work, but her conscience wouldn't let her. He was her partner and partners were supposed to stick together and help each other whenever possible. So she had found herself ringing the doorbell of his house (hoping he was there), and positively noting that she could have some one-on-one time to interrogate him on the way to work. She had been thoroughly surprised when he answered on his usual second ring of the doorbell.

But his 'hidden' confusion at not having his car or his wallet and guns, confused her. It left her with even more questions than before and she spent the whole trip trying to figure a way to confront him without him throwing up his usual barriers when asked about something personal.

Then talking with Chief Vick about the incident (minus some key cannibalistic details, because she really couldn't believe her partner would do that) bought everything to the forefront again, along with her anger, and she wanted to just drag him into one of the abandon rooms, make him answer all of her questions. But that idea dipped off and she spent her time at the station trying to busy herself with mundane work, all the while secretly watching her partner from a far.

She noted his lack of wounds and his overall good health, despite being hit in the head with a thick piece of wood last night.

"_No one has that thick of a skull."_

She turned the car into the parking lot of one of her favorite eating places: a little Mom-n-Pop diner. Parked, she glanced over to see him stepping out of the car with eyes sweeping the area as usual. She used this opportunity to send a quick text and then she walked across the parking lot to enter the building. He soon followed her in. The place wasn't crowded, surprisingly.

"_It must be a slow day."_ She noted.

Grabbing a booth at the far corner, she sat on the side facing the door. He stood there glaring and she smiled patting the opposite side of the table. For a moment, they had a little intense staring contest before he rolled his eyes and flopped down in the seat across for her. She inwardly fist-pumped the air at having won the battle.

Not soon after they sat down a waitress showed and handed them menus. She ordered a Sprite and he ordered water. As the waitress walked off to attend another table, she glanced around the room and spotted the arrival of important pieces to her plan before looking down at her menu.

"_Hopefully this will work."_

"What is up with you O'Hara?" She looked up from the menu. "First, you're normal, then you were mad about something, and now you're all smiles. What is going on with you?"

"Mad? What makes you think I was mad at something?"

"O'Hara, I have experience being around a mad woman. I know the signs and it seems like you were mad at me."

Her smile faded away, but was quickly placed back when the waitress showed, placing their drinks on the table.

"Are you ready to order?"

Carlton waved the waitress off saying, "Just give us a few minutes."

The waitress walked away and she looked at him, smile gone.

"I have so many questions going through my mind right now and all of them have to do with you." She saw his eyebrows rise. "I'm tired of trying to figure a way to ask you, so I'm going to be blunt about this. What happened yesterday after we fell down that hole?"

His expression was blank and she could see him thinking, so she continued.

"Shawn and Gus found me and cut me from that chair. You were nowhere to be found and all that blood. I was worried sick and then we found you, but all that stuff happened and you were acting weird." She looked down fiddling with her drink. "Then, you said all those things and you disappeared from scene. With everything," She looked into his blue eyes. "I'm starting to doubt you're even the person you've made us to believe you are."

* * *

><p>Shocked, he looked at his partner across from him. Fire was in her eyes.<p>

"_How can she say that? What happened to make her feel this way?"_

He opened his mouth to respond, but the waitress appeared.

"Are you now ready to order?"

O'Hara stated her usual and he just ordered a salad.

"_No meat today. I don't want anything that bleeds right now."_

The memory of yesterday was still fresh.

He watched the waitress leave before turning his attention to her. "O'Hara, the truth is… I don't remember much of yesterday evening."

She had a skeptical look on her face.

"I remember waking up tied to a chair and seeing you across from me in the same predicament, but unconscious. I remember them killing that Marks girl in front of me and her dying screams as I failed to save her."

O'Hara's face softened and he continued.

"I thought they were going to kill us." He looked down at his clasped hands. "But they released me before leaving. I'm not even sure why." He looked up at her. "After I was freed, I tried to cut your ties with the knife they left, but everything gets hazy after that. I think I blacked out. The next thing I know I'm waking up in my bed. I thought it was some kind of crazy dream, but it wasn't because you showed up at my door and my car is still at the warehouse."

* * *

><p>She looked him in the eye. She could see he was truthful, but her gut was telling her he knew more than what he let on, especially considering what he said in that dark bathroom.<p>

But then again that could've been the concussion talking.

There was only one way to find out.

**Chapter 10.5 – Never Noticed How Good Pineapples Smell**

Before long, the waitress appeared with their food and set it in front of them. She nodded at the waitress and the waitress left. Taking a few bites, she glanced at her associates across the room by the door. There was a mirror behind and above her, so Carlton couldn't see behind him, but her associates had a good enough view of their table.

"Is that all you remember?" She asked offhandedly, turning her sights back to the man across from her.

He nodded, continuing to eat.

"So you don't remember attacking Shawn."

She saw him pause.

"I attacked Spencer?" His eyes were wide as he set his fork down.

"Yes. Gus had to knock you out with a two by four to the head to make you stop."

"Is he okay? Wait…I was hit in the head?"

"Shawn's okay and yes you were hit. You also had a concussion and you refused medical care."

* * *

><p>"What?" He waved a hand in his hair to feel for anything. There was a tiny tender spot on the back of his head, evidence to what O'Hara was talking about.<p>

"Do you remember yelling at us when we tried to take you back to the paramedics?"

"No."

"You even threatened Shawn saying that he made himself a target."

"A target? A target of what?"

"That's what I'm trying to find out."

He took a bite of his salad.

"_I don't remember doing any of those things. What is going on? Unless those bastards did something the first time I was unconscious. Maybe getting those tests done weren't a waste of time."_

"And you also mentioned some kind of deal."

He almost choked on his food. He saw the suspicion on her face and he mentally cursed for having a reaction.

"I see." Her eyes narrowed. "So what deal did you make with them?"

He swallowed his food and looked away.

"Is that why you asked me to forgive you?"

Memories resurfaced and he closed his eyes trying to push them away.

_The girl's screams, bones snapping, skin ripping, the feeling of stickiness between his fingers. Leo's grinning face and his mouth saying, "It seems I was right." …Enjoyment._

"_Enjoyment?"_

He heard the front door opened and a breeze blew eyes snapped open.

"_Why do I smell pineapples?"_

"Carlton!"

He looked at her.

"What did you do?" Her voice was forceful and in a low whisper she added, "Did you kill that girl?"

"No!" He slammed his fork on the table, anger evident on his face. _"How dare she even think that?"_

He felt eyes on him and he heard a pair of chairs squeak across the floor, but he ignored them to throw a heated whisper to his partner," You should know me better than that. I wouldn't stoop so far as to murder someone, O'Hara."

He saw her gaze shift to look behind him.

The smell of pineapples was getting stronger and he looked back to see Spencer and Guster making their way over.

"_Oh great. More drama." _

"What's going on? We heard all the commotion." Spencer asked.

"This is none of your business, Spencer, Guster. Go back to your table." He growled.

The pineapple smell was getting on his nerves. He put a hand to his head.

"Lassie, we have to make sure Jules is okay. Are you okay, Jules?"

He didn't hear her answer. The scent was overwhelming. He tried to focus on studying the salad; the green of the leaves, the purple cabbage, the red tomatoes.

And then his eyes started to burn.

He rubbed them.

His mouth felt weird, and his limbs were starting to feel numb.

He felt hands shaking his left shoulder. He pushed them away. Darkness started to edge his vision and he had an intense feeling of déjà vu.

Not wanting to pass out, he bit his finger. Pain flared.

The numbness and darkness eased away.

He dropped his hand on the table. Through his hazy vision, he could see red starting to pool out of the two deep bite marks.

"_I didn't mean to bite that hard."_

Someone called his name "_probably O'Hara_" and a cluster of napkins grasped his injured hand. Dazed, his eyes followed up to see Juliet squeezing his hand. Red dotted the white and concern was plastered on her face.

He could still smell pineapples and his attention wandered to his left, directly at one person. He tried to turn away, but couldn't. Images of his _prey's_ scared face floated in his head. The joy of seeing him struggle. The sweet metallic taste in his mouth…

He shook his head of the thoughts, feeling highly disturbed.

This was a more intense feeling than how he felt back in that room. He forced himself to look back at O'Hara.

It lessened somewhat.

"O'Hara." He croaked. His voice felt funny. "Take me home. Now."

He heard her questioning tone, but he interrupted. "Now! O'Hara."

Taking back his hand along with its towel covering, he slid out of the booth or at least tried to.

"Spencer move."

Spencer was throwing questions too, and refusing to move.

He glared. "If you don't move, I'm going to do something I **will** regret. Move, Spencer."

Spencer jumped out of the way. He stood up and stomped out of the building, although a little on the wobbly side.

Outside, he felt a lot better and he leaned on the side of her car taking slow even breaths.

He looked at his wrapped hand and pulled the napkins off. He could see a faint smear of dried blood, but other than that there was no wound. Confused, he flexed his hand. No pain. No blood.

"_Maybe I didn't bite as hard as I thought."_

He looked up when he heard O'Hara leaving the building.

"Are you feeling okay?"

Pushing off the car, he glared at her. "How in the world did Spencer and Guster know we were going to eat here?" The look she gave was a dead giveaway. "You planned this?"

"I just wanted to know what happened. They were there yesterday and I figured…"

"You figured Spencer would get some kind of 'psychic' vibe off of me."

He saw her head nod slightly and he gritted his teeth in anger.

"O'Hara, I…" He lost his words when pineapples hit him, bringing with it the feelings back again. He looked over to see Spencer and Guster making their way over. That was when it dawned on him.

"Spencer, Guster. Stay where you are." He yelled motioning with his hands.

He could see them hesitate, but they stood back.

Confused, O'Hara looked over at the two and then back at him.

"Carlton, what is going on?"

His anger had lessened somewhat when he seen her concerned face.

"_Would it make sense if I say I want to rip his throat out and dance on his bloody corpse?" _He subconsciously thought, but instead he said, "I don't feel well."

"I'm taking you home." She responded guiding him away from the car door, so she could open it.

He caught a glimpse of his pale appearance in the window before sitting down and buckling up. He watched as she told Spencer and Guster something and then ran around to enter the driver's side.

She looked at him and he shook his head before she could say anything. The second she turned on the car, he turned up the A/C, despite the protest of his partner. He felt hot and the air made him feel so much better. They hit the road again in silence and he saw a familiar blue car following behind them.

He frowned. "_What the hell is wrong with me?"_


	12. Ch11 The Answer's There

**AN: So it's pass midnight here. Meaning Wednesday and an update.**

**Chapter 11 – The Answer's There, You Just Have to Open it.**

Minutes later they pulled up in his driveway. Grabbing his briefcase, he jumped out before she could put the car in park. He rounded the bushes intent on getting in his house and locking the door to effectively shut everyone away, but something caught his eye. He paused at the beginning of his walkway. A white piece of paper was taped to his door. A shudder went through his body as he felt strange eyes on him.

He looked back; his eyes scanned the neighborhood. No one was out except for his concerned party, who were making their way toward him.

But there were many spots where someone could watch him undetected.

"What were you thinking? I could've ran you over!"

He didn't respond to O'Hara's yell. Instead, he walked the few steps up with keys in hand and tore the note from its place on the door. Noting the name printed at the bottom, he quickly stuffed the paper in his pants' pocket, before his partner saw it.

He opened the door and O'Hara quickly followed him inside before he could lock her out. The trip had abated his anger, allowing tiredness to creep in. He sighed, but stood at the entrance to block his partner from entering any further.

"O'Hara thanks for bringing me home. I can handle myself from here."

Spencer and his friend stepped through the door bring with them that smell, but it didn't seem to affect him as greatly now. He wondered why.

"You sure?"

He gave her a look.

She stared back studying him before throwing up her hands in a huff. "Okay, however you want it. If you need anything, give us a call and don't think you're off the hook. I still want to know about that deal." She turned and walked out the door.

Spencer and Guster stood there.

"You two can leave." He waved his hand at them before turning to head deeper into the house. A headache was starting to form. He threw his briefcase and his suit jacket on the couch.

"I need an aspirin." He muttered and then yelled out. "And make sure to lock the front door."

"But Lassie, what about your car?" Spencer yelled out.

He paused.

"We can go get it for you."

"_Freaking Spencer. _No I'll get it later." He grumbled, entering the kitchen.

"But I have your keys."

He quickly stepped back out to see Spencer jingling his keys.

"Come on Lassie, you're not feeling well."

"How did you-?"

"You left them in the door. So how about it?"

He knew Spencer was as stubborn as an ox and telling him 'no' was like telling a rock to jump by its self.

"Fine, but Guster drives my car back. Leave my keys in a sealed envelope in my mailbox."

This seemed to satisfy the child and Spencer strolled out of his house followed by his friend, who politely closed the door. Once they were out of sight, he quickly walked over and locked the door. He heard the two cars leave and he leaned his back against the door.

"So many things…" He mumbled rubbing a hand down his face.

He had so many questions flying through his mind at the moment. Between Leo and his group, O'Hara and her accusations, the effect of the pineapple smell that seem to follow Spencer and Guster, his own psyche apparently falling apart.

He glanced at his right index finger.

"And now a fast healing finger."

He couldn't bear to tell O'Hara anything of what happened last night in that room. She wouldn't look at him the same way.

"_I can't even look myself in the eye."_

Pushing himself away from the front door, he walked toward his couch and pulled out the typed note from Leo.

**Congrats for passing Step one!**

**Step two is coming.**

**Tell your pretty pet hello for me and don't worry she's still safe.**

**-Leo**

Growling, he balled up the note and dropped it on the coffee table.

"O'Hara is not a pet." He stomped into the kitchen to grab an aspirin.

His headache was getting worse.

As he took the medicine with a glass of water, his eyes landed on the lockbox sitting on the island.

"_I completely forgot about that."_

Setting the glass on the counter, he pulled out the notebook from his pocket. During the ride to lunch, his mind had been looping around the big revelation he made at the station. The logistics of it, he couldn't accept. Things don't just appear somewhere without someone putting it there.

He glanced at the notebook.

"_And obviously that someone was me."_ He walked over to the island.

"How can I leave a note and a box without having any knowledge of doing it?"

The trash bag was still sitting in its spot on the floor.

"Maybe it has something to do with all this weird stuff caused by Leo."

He picked up the metal box studying it. It had a numerical lock with four dials and a slit for a key to fit into. The key was nowhere to be found. He sighed, taking the box with him to the kitchen table and sitting in a chair. Open the notebook, he stared at the words. It still didn't make any sense. He dropped the notebook on the table.

"This is going to take all afternoon. If this ever clears up, I'll make sure to check myself with a psychiatrist because leaving notes for yourself is never a good sign. _Hopefully Spencer won't find out. He would have a field day."_

Ten minutes passed and he paused when his stomach growled. He growled back, wanting to figure this thing out. Something was telling him the answer to all the craziness was in that box.

His stomach growl again. He ignored it.

A third time and his partner's sweet, maternal voice popped in his head.

"_Carlton, don't ignore what your body is telling you. It's not good." _Then it turned into the devil. _"Now get up and do what it says before you see my other side."_

His head jerked up. He hadn't even notice he had fallen asleep at the table. Giving in, he quickly made himself a sandwich, sat back down, and took a bite. He enjoyed it and took another. Before long the sandwich was gone and he continued the marathon reading of what was scribbled in the notebook.

_**Maybe they were right. Recognition is the route to take. **_

_**It's time to stop running, Carlton.**_

_**-CL **_

**(+)**

**B****lue **

**Green **

**Yellow **

**(-)**

**Grandfather **

**13****th**** year**

**Use and keep Calm Flower **

**Stay away from puppy!**

His eyes stayed on the word grandfather and then drifted to the box. Familiarity sprung in his mind, along with an image of O'Hara making an 'I told you so' expression. Scowling, he mentally pushed the image away.

He recalled his grandmother giving him this lockbox right after his grandfather passed on. She had stated that it was his last request for his grandson to fully understand. He had questioned her about it, but she didn't know with her deteriorating memory. He didn't have a clue to what the code was, nor did his grandmother. At the time, he had so much stuff going on in his life with just obtaining the head detective position, that figuring it out was low on his priority list. So it had ended up in his attic along with other forgotten stuff. But she did hand him the key to it, which he placed…

He stood up making his way to the living room. His eyes darted around and found what he was looking for. He walked over to the bookcase and picked up a picture of him and his grandfather taken many years ago. Opening it, he took the small taped key from the back of it. Taking the silver key, he walked back into the kitchen and put the key in the slit. It fit and turned, but the lid wouldn't give without the right number code.

"Well, found the key. Now to figure out the four numbers."

He looked at the notebook as he sat back in the chair, studying for clues to the code.

"The grandfather was the hint to the key. Either the 13th year or the flower is the numeral code and I'm betting the year is the code. Now what thirteenth year is it referring to?"

Numbers flew through his head and he settled on the most obvious answer. Plugging in the four numbers of his thirteenth year and turning the key. The lockbox his grandfather gave him opened. The lid made a dull clunk as it hit the table.

He looked in and couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing.

"_This has got to be some sick joke."_

**AN: And that is when he discovers he was adopted… Lol. Um…Not really. Carlton is definitely a Lassiter.**


	13. Ch12 Connecting Dots With the Wrong Pen

**AN: Happy Easter weekend, everyone! More puzzle pieces below... And next juicy update: Sunday.**

**Chapter 12 – Connecting Dots With the Wrong Pen **

He bounced away from Lassie's house. Gus more or less strolled away, giving him a strange look.

He didn't care. Lassie made it extremely easy for him to find out what was wrong and all he had to do was to wait until the right opportunity presented itself for him to snoop around in the house undetected.

"_And that opportune time will be tonight when Lassie is dead to the world. Maybe I'll get a chance to read that note he tried to hide."_

His happiness at the good fortune dwindled when he saw the sadden face of Jules. He took a step toward her, but she glanced at him before sitting in her car and closing the door. He watched as she back out of the driveway and drove down the street disappearing around the corner.

His shoulders slumped as he realized that whatever Lassie was hiding was putting more pressure on Jules than anybody else. He longed to just hold her.

Gus called his name from inside the Echo and he turned to head back to it. Opening the door, he gave a quick glance back at the house before sitting inside. Once inside, he looked at Gus and exclaimed, "Let's go grab a snack. Lassie kinda ruined lunch."

His friend nodded in agreement. They picked up food by way of a drive thru and were, in minutes, back on the road driving toward the Brentford warehouse. With belly satisfied, he glanced at his friend before his eyes drifted back to gaze outside. It was too quiet on the road and it allowed his mind to wander.

On their drive back last night, they didn't talk about anything pertaining to what had happened in that basement. It was mostly jokes and other stuff to keep their minds away from what had occurred and to keep themselves awake long enough to make it back to Psych.

Once at home, his mind wouldn't let go of the image of a bloody Lassie with glowing yellow eyes. And with the thought of Lassie wandering around somewhere unaccounted for (maybe waiting right outside his apartment), he couldn't go to sleep until around four and even then he still had nightmares.

He sighed._ "Sometimes having a photographic memory is more of a curse."_

This morning he had surprisingly beat Gus (by a couple of minutes) to Psych because of those nightmares and his brain's refusal to let the puzzle of Lassie's behavior die enough for him to get some sleep.

He and Gus had talked about the warehouse incident once they met up at Psych.

Gus thought the killer had drugged Lassie with something and he agreed to that theory.

But,

And that was a BIG but,

He and Gus couldn't find a drug that could cause someone to have increase aggression, want to eat people, and later on have normal behavior with memory loss (as Gus had put it).

"_I would've just said to go stir crazy, and then suddenly act normal, well somewhat normal."_

Gus noted that it could've been an experimental drug.

So then questions rose.

The drug had to be something the killer was familiar with, but…

Why use it on Lassie and not Jules?

What was the killer's focus? Why not kill them like he did with the other victims?

"_Maybe because they're cops?" _

Then why let Lassie go? Was the killer hoping that Lassie would kill Jules off in his crazy state and then the cops would kill him to protect themselves?

"_That could be a probability, but held a very slim chance of happening."_

There were other 'why' questions and other theories. One of which, involving Lassie having some connection to the killer (which would explain targeting Lassie), and another involving some supernatural ties (but he knew that didn't exist).

He had suggested they go to the station and pester Lassie about it until he spilled, or as Gus had added, until he locked them up for harassing an officer.

With that in mind, his friend had flatly refused to the idea stating that he didn't want to get burned by magma from an active volcano that he, Shawn, wanted to poke a stick at.

He personally thought that comment was weird, very weird.

But luckily, fate had presented a way for them to be in the same area as Lassie away from the station. This luck came in the form of the lovely Ms. O'Hara calling them to do a little espionage on her partner for her. She provided a time, place, and a whole layout of plans.

He gladly accepted; no surprises there.

He looked over at Gus.

He wondered what Gus was thinking with the current turn of events. With what happened between the basement and the diner, his mind was starting to slightly favor that supernatural theory.

"_But again it doesn't exist."_ He reminded himself. _"Along with changing eye color without contacts."_

He had dealt with cases that pointed toward the supernatural before, with strangling mummies and killer werewolves, but there was always a man behind the mask, kinda like those Scooby Doo cartoons. But this time, there was more happening and the only ones that knew, or had some clue to what was going on, were Lassie and the killer.

In thinking about all this supernatural stuff, he had to ask Gus…

"So, buddy." He saw Gus glance out the side of his eye. "Do you think I'm gonna start acting like Lassie?"

"What are talking about Shawn?"

"Do you think whatever's affecting Lassie could start affecting me?"

"You know they checked you out last night. So what are you talking about?"

"He freaking bit me. Not a nibble, a big bite. Can't certain things be passed down from a bite? I mean, look." He pulled the collar of his shirt to the side and slightly pulled the bandage off. "Is this the normal time of healing?"

"Shawn, cover that back up and stop being paranoid. This is not a movie. You're not going to turn into something else. It's biologically impossible."

"Says the person who turns into a little girl at the sight of blood." He covered the injury.

"Shawn." Gus whined.

"But you had to have noticed the lack of wounds on him, right?"

Gus stayed silent.

"How do you explain that? I mean, he's been hurt before. You remember he broke his collarbone that one time?" He saw Gus nod his head. "It took him forever to heal from that and now he's looking like nothing happened. He didn't start healing overnight until after that night on the beach. He did look like he was in a battle with something wild and it was a full moon."

He heard Gus whimper beside him. "You know they don't exist, Shawn."

"Did you see that look in his eye at the diner after we walked up to their table?"

Gus nodded his head, trying to compose himself. "He was annoyed with us for being there."

He looked at Gus. "I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about after he bit his finger... which I don't understand why he did that."

He looked back out the window.

"He was passing out."

"What?" He glanced back over.

"Lassiter was passing out. You were so into your conversation with Juliet that you didn't notice. That's why I was shaking his shoulder."

"Oh, so he didn't know what he was doing."

"No he did. It's a technique to use pain to bring back awareness."

"Oh…"

Gus looked over. "But I did see what you were talking about. That look he was giving you. It was scary."

"Yeah, it was almost…"

"Predatory."

"No, I was going to say hungry, but that sounds better."

Gus rolled his eyes. He looked away from his friend; his mind had picked up on something.

"_It seemed like Lassie had to force himself to face Jules as if he was fighting for control or something. Then when he looked back, the anger in his voice didn't reach his eyes." _

Lassie was trying to cover up, but with his skills, he had noticed…

The usually composed head detective had fear in his eyes.

Now what that fear was, he didn't know and he sure as hell didn't want to face whatever scared Lassie.

"_I don't think the killer scared him. Maybe it's what happening to him is scaring him…"_

He drifted away from his thought long enough to notice the car turning onto the street in front of the warehouse.

Yellow tape streamed from the entrances of the buildings.

His mind recalled the almost detached Lassie talking to them in front of the ambulance, his actions supplying them with more questions and very few answers. The mysterious and sudden way he disappeared into the alley by his car, just like that night at the beach. Almost as if the two Lassies were connected in some way.

He handed Gus Lassie's keys and they both stepped out, Gus heading to Lassie's Crown Vic and he switching seats to the driver side.

He let Gus take the lead as they drove away. His subconscious took over the task of driving as his mind filtered through the events at the diner and tried to connect them with the basement and the beach.

"_And don't forget the woods."_

The woods were the start. Something must've happened there for Lassie to start acting this way because he was perfectly fine before that.

"But it's too late to poke around that scene."

It had been two days. Most of the evidence was already collected and the area contaminated by time, animals, and people.

His attention diverted back to the road when he felt the car hitting the lane bumps. A car next to him honked its horn. Heat flushed his face as he guided the car back in his lane.

"Hopefully Gus didn't see that." He muttered looking at the silhouette of Gus' head in the car in front of him.

Once they made it back to Lassie's house, the sun had started to disappear and he got an earful from Gus about not paying attention while driving. His friend continued to rant all the way back to his car, which gave him a good chance to take the keys back from their place in the mailbox, without Gus knowing.

Back in the blueberry, he turned to his friend, who finally took a break from his rant.

"I was thinking."

Gus glared, but he continued.

"With the way Lassie kept telling us to stay away, do you think Lassie is reacting to something about us?"

His friend gave him a look; obviously Gus knew where this was leading.

"Maybe we should go in his house and see what he does. Figure out what he is reacting to."

Gus shook his head. "No, Shawn. That is not a good idea. Did you not notice the position of the sun? He's probably sleep and even if he's not, provoking him is not good. Whatever they did to him, it's still affecting him. I got the jump on him last time. It might not happen again."

Gus then put the car in drive and started the trek back to Psych.

A little upset at the rejection, he glared out the window.

"_Well I wasn't planning on bringing you with me anyway. It's more discreet with one person."_

**AN: Shawn just loves trouble. Don't he? Poor Gus isn't going to have a friend anymore. I'm just joking.** **But the next chapter title isn't joking: Curiosity Doesn't Just Kill. It Murders. **


	14. Ch13 Curiosity Doesn't Just Kill

**Chapter 13 – Curiosity Doesn't Just Kill. It Murders.**

His Norton rumbled as he pulled up to his planned parking spot in front of a vacant house around the corner from Lassie's house.

Gus' car was always better at being inconspicuous (Yeah he knew big words, too). His precious motorcycle on the other hand was an attention grabber just like its owner and a sure way to attract the attention of Lassie and his neighbors, if he parked in front of the house.

Dressed in all black with black leather gloves, he turned off the engine and strapped his helmet to the cycle. His silenced phone was in his pocket, along with a bottle of mace and a mini flashlight. He also had a small, but powerful stun gun in a different pocket.

"_Who said only Gus could be prepared?"_

He made his way to the house, acting as ordinary as possible. Stepping up to the door, he noted the absence of lights showing in the house.

"_That either means he's asleep or somewhere in the back of the house. Considering it's two in the morning, he should be sound asleep." _

He knew the risks. Other than getting attacked again, he could be put into jail for breaking and entering, in which Lassie would enjoy personally throwing him in the brig and locking the doors.

He reached out to the doorknob with keys in hand.

"_Come to think of it, Lassie is a gun fanatic and probably has one of his 8+ guns within arm's length."_ He paused in turning the fitted key. _"Maybe, I should've grabbed Dad's bulletproof vest, too." _He shook his head. _"It would take too long to go get it. I barely got the stun gun and mace without him noticing, and knowing him, he probably knows I have them anyway."_

He turned the key.

A soft click resounded and the door swung slowly open. He paused listening for any alarms or movement. There was none, surprisingly.

"_If anything feels wrong, I'm out."_

He stepped into the darkness of the entrance and carefully closed the door. Silence ruled after the click of the door and he ventured cautiously in going pass the small living room turned office to his right and closet door to his left. His eyes scanned for everything: movement and noise. Soft light pooled on the ground at the entrance to the den of the house. He crouched low and peeked inside.

A blank, big flat screen TV hung on the wall to his right, along with the entrance to the hallway leading to the master bedroom, bathroom, and another bedroom. To his left was the entrance to the kitchen. Across from the TV was the couch and sitting in the far right corner in his recliner, wearing a dark T-shirt and pajama pants, was Lassieface (as he had predicted earlier) dead to the world. A yellow legal pad was in his lap and a pen was still clutched in his hand.

"_Looks like he fell asleep."_ A grin stretched on his face. _"Perfect."_

Cautiously, he tiptoed out of the hallway. He had to make sure Lassie was knocked out before he started the search. Crouched low beside the coffee table, he noted the relaxed features, the movement of eyes behind the eyelids, and the steady breathing with the soft snoring.

All signs of a person in deep REM sleep.

He slowly stood up. With eyes trained on the sleeping person, he did a little dance around the room and paused by the kitchen. There was no response. He wanted a high-five from a certain someone for guessing the right time to pull this stunt.

"_But that someone isn't here."_ He pouted.

"_Now, where to start the answer search?"_

Looking around the immediate area, he spotted multiple points of interest: two here and three in the kitchen. He approached the coffee table again, where a balled up piece of paper sat.

This was one of the reasons he couldn't wait to get in here. If Lassie had any connection to the killer that note he was hiding would give some kind of clue.

He took the paper. Careful not to cause too much noise, he straightened and read it.

**Congrats for passing Step one!**

**Step two is coming.**

**Tell your pretty pet hello for me and don't worry. She's still safe.**

**-Leo**

Some of his questions were answered, but more questions filled their placed. He dropped the note back on the table and stood by the sleeping Lassie. Leaning down, he skimmed through what was written on the legal pad. Standing back up, he pondered the information.

"_So there are three killers: Leo, Bear, and an unnamed woman. Leo is the leader of this group and they want Lassie to complete some steps, in order to save someone."_

His eyes fell on the coffee table.

"_And by the note, it's a woman. A girlfriend? Naw. His mother? … Nope."_ He shook his head, _"Who would kidnap that crazy, old lady? Then maybe his sister?" _He nodded his head in agreement. _"Yup, that has to be it. Who else would he risk everything for?"_ He looked at the darkened kitchen. _"But what are these steps that he's supposed to be completing and why is he acting the way he is?"_

Lassie moved next to him and he froze.

Then he almost laughed out loud when he heard Lassie mumble about pineapples before becoming still again, minus the snoring.

"_Okay, that's a clear sign that my time is almost up."_ He tiptoed away heading toward the kitchen. At the entrance to the kitchen, he looked back and shook his head.

"_Pineapples, really? Lassie, you should know that's my thing."_

He entered the kitchen and quickly went to the dining table. Turning on the small flashlight, he looked at the opened box and small notebook. He placed Lassie's keys down on the table and picked up the notebook. He read the exposed page and his face scrunched in confusion. The handwriting was a dead giveaway for who wrote this, but what was written was a cause for more questions.

"_Why write this to yourself?"_

He flipped the page expecting more, but all that was written was a repeat of four words, which were written hesitantly as if…

"_He didn't know he wrote the previous message."_

He placed the notebook back on the table. His mind was reeling with this information as he focused on the opened box.

"_Time is ticking."_ He reminded himself.

A silver key stuck out from its slot on the front of the box next to a four-numbered lock. All set to zero. Inside the box was a leather strap, about one and half feet in length. He picked up the strap, wondering about its meaning…,

And then he heard a faint squeak from the other room.

**AN: I bet ya thought a certain someone was gonna die in this chapter. *snickers* There is still a possibility…**


	15. Ch14 Yellow Doesn't Like Wandering Pups

**Chapter 14 -** **Yellow Doesn't Like Wandering Puppies**

Dropping the strap back in the box, he clicked the flashlight off and ducked behind the kitchen's island. Peeking his head out, he saw Lassie slowly raise himself from the chair. The legal pad and pen dropped to the floor.

He couldn't gauge if he was caught because Lassie's face was dipped in shadow, but his searching head wasn't a good sign. He saw his head pause, looking at the coffee table. He watched as the detective picked up the note he had straightened and put it up to his face as if he couldn't see it.

"_What is he doing?"_

Lassie looked in his direction and started walking toward him.

He gulped and scrambled to get into the pantry. Closing the door as softly as possible, he slowed his breathing, hoping he wasn't spotted or heard. He watched through the slits in the door as Lassie entered the kitchen.

Lassie paused at the dining table, looking at the opened metal box.

"_I hope he doesn't notice anything."_

Suddenly with a guttural snarl, Lassie swept the box off the table. He heard its contents jiggle as it hit the carpeted floor of the den.

He ducked low at the sound. _"I guess he does. Let's just hope he doesn't find me."_

Lassie's back was to him, but by the posture he could see in the limited light that the guy was tense.

"_How am I going to get out of here? The door leading to the garage is right there, but waiting for the outside door to rise would take too long and all Lassie would have to do is run out and tackle me. He is faster and well trained…"_

Lassie had started his weird searching thing again by putting his face close to the table.

"_Why is he doing that?"_

If only it was lighter here, then he could see and figure out what Lassie was looking for.

"_Because he wouldn't be looking for an intruder like this."_

He watched as Lassie turned away from the table and started a slow pace toward the island.

"_He's following something…"_

Leaning down, Lassie looked at the spot where he was moments before. Lassie's head then jerked toward him and a chill went down his spine. Between the way Lassie's head moved and his points of interest, the answer smacked him in the face.

And as he waited for the inevitable reveal of his hiding spot, all he could think was, _"What the hell? Did he just follow my scent?"_

He looked up when the door opened and there stood (what he assumed) an angry Lassie. He was shocked to see his face blank and eyes closed.

"_Either he's sleepwalking or he actually did follow my scent."_

One way to find out.

"Um…Hey Lassie."

There was no response.

Grinning, he stood up. His legs shook a little. "You found me."

Still no response.

"Well I'll leave, so you can go back to sleep." He slipped past Lassie, who stood holding the door in his right hand. Standing next to the island, he looked at the motionless Lassie. It was eerie. "Sorry for waking you…" He swallowed his words when he saw Lassie turn to face him. The pantry door stood open.

Lassie took a deep breath and his eyes flicked opened.

He almost screamed, but his body chose to make a run for it instead. The stuff from his nightmares was standing right there and he was not going to sit and chat with it.

He ran into the den and before he knew what happened he was on the floor. The stupid box had tripped him.

He could hear Gus, now, _"Horror tip 256: a character running during the chase scene will always end up falling over something."_

He cursed and looked back at the kitchen. No sign of Lassie. He scrambled to his feet, backing away from the kitchen toward the front door only to hit something soft. He looked back to see a shadow-covered Lassie staring at him with amber glowing in his eyes.

Uneasy, he took a couple of steps back. Lassie followed.

"I know you're angry at me for going through your stuff."

He heard Lassie growl, deep and low.

Taking more steps back, Lassie followed stepping into the light. He immediately noted the slight feral appearance in his hair. A remark about bed hair was on the tip of his tongue, but his voice stuck in his throat when Lassie's face twisted into a snarl showing longer than normal canines. His eyes grew wide and Lassie lunged for him.

Throwing his arms up to protect his face, he jumped back, forgetting about the metal box he had just tripped over. The wind blew out of his lungs as his body once again hit the floor and a new pain ran the length of his left arm as Lassie sunk his teeth into flesh.

Their eyes met. Blood dripped from his arm and he remembered the stun gun in his pocket. He pulled it out with his right hand and shot a huge charge into Lassie's side. With a yelp, Lassie jumped away from him and started to pace the shadows. He hurried to his feet. He glanced at the stun gun. It was set to max and the battery was dead.

"_How did that not have a big effect on him? Would the mace even work, if the stun gun didn't?" _

Putting the stun gun back in his pocket, he looked back at the pacing Lassie.

"_Is it me or does he look a little wilder? Whatever is happening here I have to snap him out of it."_

Crouched low, Lassie looked at him, growling.

"Lassie, it's me Shawn. You don't want to eat me. What would Jules think of you when she finds you chewing on my bones?"

He clumsily sidestepped when Lassie took a swipe at him.

"_How am I going to get out of here? He keeps blocking the hallway to the front door. Maybe I can knock some sense into him like Gus did."_

He glanced down and around. But movement from Lassie had him quickly grabbing the nearest thing off the floor. With eyes closed, he held the object in front of him like a shield.

When nothing happened, he cracked one eye to see Lassie paused in mid lunge. His amber eyes focused on the dark brown object in his hand. 

"_Huh?"_

Opening both eyes, he waved the leather strap side to side. Lassie's eyes followed it. He stepped forward. Lassie growled softly and stepped back, his amber eyes darting between the strap and its holder.

"_Okay, so Lassie doesn't like this."_

Keeping the strap between him and Lassie, he pushed forward guiding the man away from the hallway entrance. As he backed up to the front door, Lassie stepped forward, but kept his distance.

Once he was clear, he threw open the door and ran. He heard Lassie give chase behind him.

"_Have to get to my bike. I have to get to my bike."_ He repeated in his head.

He ran as hard as he could; never looking back. Reaching his bike, he jumped on and turned the keys. He pushed the gas and he felt a hand grab the back of his bike. His tires screeched as he pushed for the bike to cover ground. Its tires dug into the cement causing the smell of rubber and screeching tires to wave in the air. Suddenly Lassie let go and he zoomed off down the street, masterfully correcting his bike from the wobble. The wind whipped in his ears as he turned the corner.

He made a couple of detours to calm down and to make sure he wasn't being followed. Around four, he pulled up in his usual parking spot at his apartment. No one was around. He exhaled noisily and stepped off his bike. He quickly walked to his door, entered, and closed the door behind him. Turning on a single lamp, he made his way over to the couch and dropped the mace and stun gun on the table.

He still had the leather strap firmly held in his right hand.

"What just happened was unreal." He rubbed his left hand down his face.

His left arm was aching, along with his right shoulder, but he chose to ignore his shoulder pain to look at his arm. Dried blood caked it from his windy trip. He gathered the few medical supplies he had from around the apartment and flopped on the couch.

"This is the second time he bit me." He mumbled.

As he worked on himself, he noted how worst the wound was from last time. It looked like he chewed a little this time

"_Does he think I'm some sweet side of beef or something?"_

A picture of Lassie sitting at a restaurant came to mind. A toothy smile plastered on his face. _"Let me order the Shawn, rare please."_

He quickly pushed that thought away and then he realized something.

"_All this time, Lassie's been reacting to me, but only after he bit me that first time."_

He had to tell someone. He finished bandaging his arm and pulled out his phone. Dialing the number with practiced ease, he waited for the person to answer. After six rings the voicemail picked up.

"Hey, Gus, buddy. I just left from Lassie's house. And don't worry; me and Lassie had…," He looked at the strap in his hand. "A little confrontation, but we worked it out."

He tossed the leather item on the table. It slid across and landed on the floor. He shrugged. "Anyway, you wouldn't be able to guess what I found out. There are three killers. Lassie made some kind of deal with them because they have a hostage. Whatever they did to him, it's making him do weird stuff and at the warehouse, I became his target. He doesn't-"

His front door burst opened and he jumped to his feet, almost dropping his phone.

"_Did Lassie follow me all the way here?"_

Cursing himself for forgetting to lock the door, he switched the phone to his left hand and grabbed the mace with his right.

"Dude, aren't you suppose to knock?" He said taking the few steps to face the door.

He paused when he saw that it wasn't Lassie waiting at the door. A huge man with dark, wild hair stood in the doorway.

The man stepped inside.

"Hey, I didn't invite you in. Go back outside and knock. And then maybe I'll let you in."

The man cracked his knuckles in response.

"Okay." He squeaked. "You can take whatever you want. There's not much here anyway."

The man took a few more steps toward him. "Psychic." He heard the man say gruffly.

"_Okay so this is not a typical robber."_

"Leo is requesting your presence."

Alarms went off in his head and he pointed the mace at the intruder, while taking a few steps back to match the man's advancing.

"Stay back or you'll get a taste of sweet and terrible spiciness."

When the man didn't stop, he shot a stream of the peppery liquid at him.

…or thought he had.

The man had quickly covered the ground between them and had seized his hand holding the mace. The liquid flew away from them.

Wide eyed, he stared up at the hulk of a man.

"You should've kept your nose out of this."

And then a large fist flew at his head and the lights went out.

**AN: Didn't that coming, huh? I hope not. I want to stay unpredictable.** **If I haven't expressed it before, Thanks to all the reviewers and readers! All I ask is for you to stay on the train.**


	16. Ch15 Gus is What Matters…or not

**Chapter 15 – Gus is What Matters…or not**

[Fri]

"This morning has been extremely relaxing." He sighed, slowly drinking a cup of orange juice and eating breakfast.

He (not Shawn) had taken off this week because of the case and this was the first time in a long time that he didn't have to rush out to meet his friend somewhere early in the morning.

So he took the morning slow, pushing away all thoughts of this disturbing case.

He didn't want to think about all that blood in the conference room, the dead body of that woman in the hallway, or a growling Lassiter crouched over his friend in that dark bathroom. He didn't want to think about Juliet's hurt expression, Lassiter's confusing reaction when told what happened that night, or the strange flash of gold in his eyes at the diner.

He shivered and then took a bite of his eggs.

Nope he wasn't going to think about what happened yesterday or Shawn's idea to find out what Lassiter was reacting to.

He made a mental note to call Shawn after he finished, and make sure he didn't go through with that plan of his.

"_There's no telling what could happen."_

It wasn't even eight yet, by the time he got through eating and he traveled the few feet to his cell phone to dial Shawn's number. Grabbing the phone, he noticed the missed call.

It was from Shawn…

At 4:16AM.

He swallowed the panic that was rising.

"_Please tell me he didn't go over there."_

Then he noted the voicemail icon on the screen.

He pushed the call button.

_**You have one new message…**_

He listened intently and his horror grew.

He saved the message and dialed Shawn's number hoping this was some joke.

It rang a couple of times before going to the voicemail.

He called again and again.

No answer.

Seeing that it was useless to call a fourth time, he grabbed his keys and walked out the door, intent on getting to Shawn's apartment as quickly as possible.

He arrived at the apartment in record time. Shawn's bike sat in its usual spot, but it had weird scratches on the back. He shook his head of a fluttering thought and jogged the rest of the way to the apartment.

The door was closed.

"_Good sign?"_

He fitted his copy of Shawn's key into the door and it opened without him turning the key.

"_Very bad sign."_

He stepped in calling out his friend's name. There was no answer.

He called again and then spotted a medium-sized cardboard box sitting in the middle of the small wooden table that Shawn had dubbed a coffee table. A white note was attached to the top and a stun gun sat next to it.

He searched the area giving the strange box a wide perimeter.

There was no sign of Shawn.

Gathering enough courage, he ventured toward the only clue to Shawn's whereabouts. He noted the can of pepper spray and Shawn's phone sitting on the carpeted floor in between the couch and the table before reading what the white paper said.

He gasped at what it read, immediately picking up his phone and dialing one trusted person.

She answered after one ring.

"Juliet, Shawn's been kidnapped. I'm at his apartment now, and there's this weird package here from, it says, Leo."

He didn't need to say anymore as she stated she was on the way. Walking back to the front door, he put his phone in his pocket. There was no reason to contaminate the scene any more than he already did. So he'd wait at the door with arms folded for Juliet to arrive.

That note had said a lot in a few words and he tried to turn his thoughts away from punching a certain detective in the face for his part in this.

Shawn was family and far too lovable for such a stab in the back. If anything were to happen to his friend because of this, he would personally make a certain someone's life a living hell.

He breathed in and exhaled slowly a couple of times. It didn't quail the resentment or make him feel any better.

He just hoped Juliet was by herself.

**AN: So I gave Gus a little love. Although he's not feeling the same way for a certain someone else. **

**I know this was short, but I couldn't really tag it to the chapter before. They weren't related and neither is the next one. But I do guarantee the next chapter will be worth the short wait. ** **Also I'm feeling that ya'll are thinking, "What is up with this author and mysterious boxes?" I don't know. This one just appeared in the story and stayed.**


	17. Ch16 Through the Interrogation Forest

**AN: Because the previous chapter was so short, I'm posting this as early as possible. Meaning it's midnight here, so it's Sunday. :)**

**Chapter 16 – Through the Interrogation Forest **

Birds were chirping, the sky was the clearest blue, the sun was warm, people were happy.

And despite all the cheerfulness in the outside world, it was clear.

Carlton Lassiter was in one very, very sour mood.

He woke up this morning, not in the spot he initially fell asleep in, feeling extremely disoriented with a very unwelcomed guest next to him. His side burned like fire, his body felt like he ran a marathon, and his right hand felt like he slapped a brick wall.

And did he mention his house was a mess?

It looked like there had been a chase and a rather short fight between his kitchen and living room.

The lockbox, which was previous left on the table, he found lying open on the floor beside his couch with a certain leather item missing and papers peeking out from a secret compartment inside.

To dampen his spirits further, after cleaning and setting everything back to how it was, he had just taken a seat to look at one of the papers from the box when the doorbell rang.

And it was just his luck to have the door reveal two fellow co-workers who were ordered to escort him to his job because of some ludicrous charge.

He was allowed just enough time to leave his house with keys in hand.

Now, he was stuck in a God forsaken room staring at two IA investigators and a very upset Chief Vick.

On top of everything, he hadn't seen hide or hair of his partner, O'Hara. He was starting think this current situation happened because of her.

"_She had to have mouthed off her suspicions to somebody." _

He glared at the table just thinking about it.

"So Detective Lassiter." He glanced up at the stern man to the right. Dylan Henderson was his name. "Where were you late Tuesday / early Wednesday morning?"

"I told you, already. I was at home asleep." He answered back as nicely as he could with having been asked three times before.

"Did you make contact with anyone that can confirm that you were where you say you were?"

"No, I stay alone. But I left the station around 11 pm, picked up something to eat, got home around 11:30, stayed up until about 1 reviewing the Parma Park case, and then I went to bed."

"But there is evidence here that states otherwise." The dark-haired woman to the left stated: Cheryl Garcia. "This is your jacket. Is it not?" She said sliding the black, blood-covered item between them. It was still bagged.

He shook his head staring at Garcia. "No. I was nowhere near Parma Park. I didn't know anything about it until after I received the call for it."

"But your DNA and blood was found on this jacket and all over the crime scene." She continued, tapping a small stack of papers with a finger to add emphasis. "All of this, place you at the crime scene and with no alibi..."

"You get the picture, detective." Henderson finished rather bluntly.

"_These accusations…"_

He folded his arms and leaned back trying to remain calm because having a fit wasn't going to look good.

"_But I __**was**__ at the scene," _He reminded himself,_ "From what Leo said, and I helped free that Marks girl. I just don't remember any of it."_

And telling them that he couldn't remember would lead them to assuming he also had something to do with Marks' death, which would cause the hostage situation to look like he had conveniently got rid of a potential witness that could've place him at the murder scene.

He knew how wrong assumptions could be made from one simple statement.

So he kept quiet.

"There was also some blood from a different source found at the scene that is not connected to you or the two victims. Who else was there, detective?" Garcia asked.

"I don't know because I wasn't there." He answered with frustration in his voice. "The obvious answer would be the three people who took me and O'Hara hostage."

He glanced at the Chief. She was shooting poison daggers. He looked away. Her gaze was making him uncomfortable. His eyes wandered the room before settling on the wall behind them.

"You do know this charge can turn from accomplice to second degree at a moment's notice, right?" Henderson stated as he continued to stare at nowhere.

"There are no suspects other than you and any information you are withholding will only make it worst on you if we find out through another source." Garcia added.

"Tell us what your involvement in this is and maybe we can lower your sentence."

Focusing on Henderson, he mentally huffed. None of these tactics would work on him. Even if he did commit a crime (which he didn't), he knew how to stand his ground.

%%%

"_Let go for a moment and they'll run like scared cattle."_

An image of a dark, huddled form in an enclosed space quickly crossed his mind.

%%%

He hid his surprise at the sudden thought and tried to maintain his aloof appearance.

Ever since he woke up this morning he'd been having these strange 'flashes' of thoughts, images, and emotions that frankly didn't feel like him. It felt foreign, yet oddly enough like they belong.

"_Was this what it felt like to go insane?"_ He wondered vaguely.

"Detective, we're waiting for an answer." Garcia said.

Henderson saw he wasn't going to speak and decided to take a different direction.

"So what do you have to say about the evidence brought against you?" The man stated.

He looked at the jacket. A thought of interest, poked him.

It was strange. He remembered while documenting the scene that this was the only piece of evidence that he really didn't bother looking into. He wrote it down and that was that. It was like his subconscious didn't want him to look into what connections it could reveal.

But now something was pushing for him to look closer.

"_Maybe I'm thinking about this too deeply."_

Mentally, he shook his head and focused his eyes to the two impatient people sitting in front of him.

Silence fell between them for a couple of minutes.

His eyes wandered back to the jacket.

"Detective Lassiter!" He flinched slightly when Chief hit the table. She was angry. "I don't know what's going through that head of yours. You need to explain yourself. We are not leaving-"

"May I get a closer look at the jacket?" He asked impulsively, sitting up.

He could practically see the "No" before she even said it. So he grabbed it and opened the bag before anyone could protest.

Its contents spilled onto the table and he spread the jacket out.

"You do know this is tampering with evidence." He heard Garcia say.

"I know that." He said curtly. "But something is bothering me about this stupid jacket."

He hadn't meant for that last bit to be said out loud.

He saw Henderson write something down and Garcia turn to question the Chief about his behavior. He ignored them to study the jacket.

It was made of a slick, noiseless material, had a detachable hood, and it zip up in the front. There were four pockets: two on the outside and two inside. All of them were empty. The contents, if there were any, were probably stored in the evidence room.

Cuts and scratches littered the sleeves, shoulder, and back areas. Dried blood stained the inside and outside.

%%%

_Excitement_

An image of dark trees and grass flew through his mind before disappearing.

%%%

He frowned and continued searching.

He found familiar handwritten initials on the collar tag and his frown deepened when he saw the other handwritten 'CL' on the side tag.

"_Grandfather was always a private person, even with tagging his stuff."_

Yeah, it was his.

He admitted to himself, dejectedly.

It used to be one of his favorites. His grandfather had given it to him for reaching 21 and officially stepping into 'manhood'. He thought it was lost somewhere in his closet.

But here it was lying on the table ruined, just like his career.

Because with this amount of direct evidence, once he stepped out that door, he was leaving in handcuffs.

He put a hand to his head.

%%%

_Disappointment_

A dark shape sped off into cloudy darkness.

%%%

He gritted his teeth in frustration.

"_Why is all this stuff happening to me?"_

His mind turned with thoughts of everything that had happened and everything that will happen, trying to find light in the dark.

Nothing looked good and it was all Leo's fault.

His hand grasped the material in anger.

Then suddenly his hand was grasping the front of a young man's shirt. Gray eyes glittered slyly through a curtain of dark hair. Someone tackled him from the side and his world turned as he hit the leave-covered ground. He jumped back up placing himself between them and her.

They were shocked at his quick recovery.

He smirked studying the two men: one lean, but built and the other big and full of muscle.

He had never run into anyone like him on the outside before. He was curious, but these were amateurs.

He glanced at the dead man to his left.

"_And they hunt the weak."_

It was disgusting.

He felt someone watching, other than the two in front of him and the scared woman behind him. Their eyes burned into him, but he ignored them. His sights were focused on the big guy; the one that attacked him unprovoked and who looked ready to charge again.

He heard the lean man try to reason with the big guy stating that "He's not normal."

The big guy disregarded the warning and charge at him.

He stood his ground.

If it was a fight he wanted, then he would show this pup how to really fight.

Minutes later, blood spattered across the leaves on the ground and the woman screamed.

%%%

A shadowed form struggled in darkened grass as he clawed and pulled. Red liquid streamed from underneath it.

_Satisfaction _

%%%

And then he was thrust back into the interrogation room, which proved to be too tiny and closed in for his liking. He stood up and rushed out, despite the protest of both the IA officers and Chief Vick.

He almost bowled someone over exiting the room and he didn't bother apologizing even when the person called out his name with resentment. His mind was focused on two things, keeping down what _(who)_ ever made him full this morning and getting to the bathroom as fast as possible.

He would find time later to think about what just occurred.

**Chapter 16.5 – And into Recognition Valley **

She wasn't one to get angry very often, unless certain buttons were pushed, and mind you those buttons were small and extremely hard to push.

Shawn being kidnapped wasn't what pushed her. No. It was the fact that Carlton knew where these killers were, which could've prevented Shawn from getting kidnapped in the first place.

It said so in the note attached to the box.

She had left Gus at Shawn's apartment with a direct order to not touch anything and to call her if anything happened.

Shawn being taken was the last straw for her partner to keep secrets and she was going to make him tell her everything. But first she had to drag him away from his desk and out of the station, so they could save Shawn.

She burst in the station a little after eleven, passing several co-workers who eyed her in surprise. He wasn't at his desk and she yelled for Buzz. He always knew where people were in the station. Buzz appeared immediately, a little flustered.

"You called Detective O'Hara."

"Hey Buzz. Have you seen Carlton?"

"Yea, he's in interrogation room C with the Chief and two IA investigators.

"IA investigators? What's going on?"

Buzz shrugged. "I don't know. They've been in there for hours, but the word is that Detective Lassiter had something to do with the Wednesday morning murder for the Parma Park case. I personally don't believe it."

"_More secrets…?" _She thought before telling Buzz thanks.

"No problem."

"Wait Buzz."

He turned his head. "Hm..."

"Can you go to Shawn's place and check up on Gus for me?"

Buzz looked confused. "I would love to do it, but might I ask why?"

"I'll explain later when I get there."

"Ok Detective O'Hara." He started out toward the station doors.

"And look out for any suspicious characters." She yelled out.

Buzz just waved back.

She watched him leave and then she made a beeline toward the interrogation hall. It was the third door on the right. She would just call the Chief out, explain the situation, and hopefully she'll let Carlton go long enough to help find Shawn.

After that, Carlton was on his own.

She reached for the door and the door pulled out of her grasp. A tall figure pushed her out of the way and rushed down the hallway.

"Carlton!" She called out as she watched him disappear into the bathroom.

Huffing at the blaring disregard from her partner, she took off down the hallway, intent on following him in the bathroom to give him a piece of her mind.

"Detective O'Hara."

She paused and turned to face her boss. She and the two IA officers had exited the room. "Yes ma'am."

The Chief's face was stern, but it held concern underneath. "Are you all right?"

She almost nodded a yes until she remembered why she was here.

"No, we have a situation. Shawn's been kidnapped and the kidnappers left a package in his apartment. It's directed at Carlton." The Chief's eyes widened. "I left Gus there. He's the one that informed me on my initial way to the station. That's why I wasn't here earlier. I just sent Buzz to secure the scene."

The Chief turned to the IA officers and dismissed them. Once out of range, she told the Chief about the note and her suspicions, including Carlton's deal (which she purposely left out of her written statement). Chief Vick just took everything in as she explained. No emotion shown. She personally admired her for her strength in such a men-ruled career.

"I don't know what going on with my Head Detective or what his connection with these killers are. But if he knows where Mr. Spencer is, he will have to tell us. Now, let's go get Detective Lassiter."

They walked down the hallway and respectfully entered the men's bathroom.

**AN: And Fridays are usually so relaxing, but this one starts on the wrong side of the bed. It seems unfair for Juliet to trade Lassie for Shawn. Shame on you, Juliet, for wanting to throw poor, confused Lassie under the bus. **

**FYI: The worst kind of torture is mental, not physical.**


	18. Ch17 Shattered Mirrors Hold No Lies

**Chapter 17 – Shattered Mirrors Hold No (Many) Lies**

He entered the bathroom. Bile was climbing and he barely made it to the toilet before everything gushed out. He forced his eyes shut. After the third heave, nothing came out. He could feel thick strings of saliva slowly drip down and he spat a couple of times. With legs shaking, he stood up and his eyes opened to see a horrible sight. He gasped backing up out of the stall. His back hit the far wall and he watched the door eased closed, blocking his view.

But it didn't block the images and sensations that flooded his mind.

_Stalking in the dark. Charging. Struggling. Hazel eyes full of fear. Teeth biting. Bittersweet. Warm. Pain. Running. Claws reaching and grabbing. Holding. Reaching…_

"Carlton, the Chief and I are coming in."

He was paralyzed and he looked over just in time to see the two women appear around the corner. The images slowed a bit and he let his hands fall. He didn't even realize they were holding his head. He stared at them with wide eyes.

They were the two most important women in his life and they felt betrayed because he broke one of his honor codes to save one of them.

But nothing could save him from their gaze and he suddenly felt the weight of the entire situation on him. His legs gave out and he slid to the floor.

He felt them rush over and flank him with concern.

"Are you okay?" He heard one of them say and he shook his head.

"_No."_ His eyes wandered to the closed stall across from him and his partner caught on. O'Hara made to stand up and he grabbed her sleeve, weakly.

"_I don't want you to see."_ He thought.

She shrugged his hand off.

He watched as she stepped away and ventured toward the soiled stall.

A part of him wanted to jump up to block her advancement, but a major part of him was tired.

Tired of trying to figure this puzzle out by his self.

Tired of finding pieces, but realizing there were way more blank spot than the pieces in his hand.

Tired of hiding.

He was just tired and confused.

As O'Hara eased open the door to the stall, he saw a hand sticking out of the toilet. He blinked and it was gone. He heard O'Hara gasp and he looked down at his hands. A drop of diluted red landed in his opened palm.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, Chief."<p>

She looked back holding the door open. Chief Vick jumped up.

"What is it?"

Her gaze focused on the sitting form of her partner. "Carlton, where did all this blood come from?"

"Blood?" Chief Vick rushed over to look.

Carlton looked up at them. His eyes were glazed and then he slumped forward with his head in his hands.

* * *

><p>"<em>They can see it."<em>

He didn't want it to be true.

He wanted it to be something from an overly active imagination, a movie he saw, a crime scene he visited, something other than reality.

His reality.

* * *

><p>"Carlton." She walked over and crouched next to him. He didn't move. She could see he was conscious.<p>

"Carlton!" She pushed on one of his shoulders with all her weight and he looked up. His expression was mixed. She immediately picked up on the guilt, but there was also fear, fatigue, hurt, and something else in his eyes. She couldn't pinpoint what that something else was.

"Answer me. Where did the blood come from?"

She saw him swallow and that was when she noticed the faint red trail going from the corner of his mouth down his neck staining his shirt pink.

"Carlton, open your mouth."

He frantically shook his head.

"You're hurt. Open your mouth."

* * *

><p>"<em>There is no way I'm opening my mouth."<em>

O'Hara took his head in her hands. "If you don't let me look, then I'm getting the medical staff."

He was not going there, with the poking, prodding, and needles.

Oh how he hated needles.

He shook his head from her grasp and lightly pushed O'Hara off of him. He stood up with help from the wall. She protested the whole way. He glanced at Chief Vick for help. Her arms were folded and the stall door was closed.

"_I guess she wants O'Hara to deal with me, for now."_

He grabbed a few towels from the wall dispenser and walked over to nearest sink. He didn't like the taste of blood, but at least he could clean himself up and maybe flush that horrible mess.

"Don't ignore me." O'Hara said beside to him.

He turned on the water and looked in the mirror.

A snarling monster with gold eyes glared back.

Startled, he jumped back cursing.

He glanced over. _"Did they see that?"_

Both O'Hara and Chief had their own confused expression.

He looked back at the mirror. His regular reflection looked back.

"_I guess not."_

O'Hara said something, but all he could hear was the beating of his heart.

Trying to calm down, he dampened the paper towels and wiped his face. He didn't dare look back in the mirror.

"Fine, ignore me. But you are helping us find Shawn, if I have to drag your butt all over Santa Barbara."

He paused, _"Find Spencer?" _

Looking over, their serious face met his stunned one.

* * *

><p>"<em>Finally got his attention."<em> She crossed her arms.

Carlton stood up from bending over the sink.

"What?" He asked low.

"Shawn's missing."

"Missing? What happened? Don't tell me I…"

She saw his eyes quickly glance at the stall and she wondered why.

"Shawn's been kidnapped by your pals." She told him.

"Kidnapped?" She heard the relief in his voice, and then he glared at her, "They're not my pals, O'Hara."

She ignored his glare. "They left a package at his apartment. It says we have to find him before sundown and that you know where they are."

Carlton looked puzzled. "I don't know where they are. What's in the package?"

"We never opened it. It's still at Shawn's apartment."

"Well take me to it… if Chief will…"

She followed his line of sight to look at Chief Vick.

"We were planning on taking you there anyway, Detective. Even if you didn't cooperate. Now if you are ready." Chief motioned toward the door with her hands. "And don't try anything, even though I know you won't."

* * *

><p>O'Hara started to walk to the door. He followed, and then remembered something. He quickly flushed and cleaned the stall of any nastiness, washed his hands, and threw away the towels before exiting behind O'Hara.<p>

He felt a little better letting them see a glimpse of what he was going through, although it was an extremely disgusting piece.

He was even ready to let them in on everything he knew.

And as he journeyed through the station with O'Hara leading and the Chief following in the rear, that good feeling dissipated.

Everyone was staring and their stares were bothering him, making the Great Carlton Lassiter want to close himself back in the bathroom, away from their looks. It was like they knew what he had done – what Leo had started.

"_But they don't know. It's all speculation."_

He swallowed hard and put up his scowling mask.

It stayed up through the many flashes of hushed gossip he could hear, surprisingly well.

It stayed up outside with the flood of media that piggybacked on the Parma Park case, and now on his, most likely leaked, accusations.

It didn't crumpled until after he was put in the backseat of an unmarked squad car and they were miles away from station. Here, he muttered an apology to the two only supporting ladies in his life and mumbled lowly an offer to spill his guts out to them about everything.

They seemed to accept it, quietly.

"But first we save, Shawn."

**AN: Next chapter we visit Shawn in his prison to see how he's holding up.**


	19. Ch18 Pineapples of Experimentation

**Chapter 18 – Pineapples of Experimentation**

He was bored.

His kidnapper (he assumed it was Bear) hadn't visited him once, since he woke up. Well scratch that, Bear did come in to gag him rather roughly, when he wouldn't keep his mouth shut. Now he was lying on the provided mattress with his hands cuffed in front of him and his right foot shackled to a short metal chain attached to the floor.

The accommodations were at least favorable. He could move around a short distance and his prison had to have been purposed for a master bedroom because there was a small bathroom attachment with a working toilet and sink.

"_No stinky basements or closets for me."_

The two windows were barred from the inside and covered in cloth. It prevented him from trying to break the glass and from people looking in.

In fact, this house smelled new, so either he was in a really well off neighborhood or one of those renovating slums. He voted for the former, which meant that this Leo dude had money or connections or both.

The doorknob jiggled and he hopped up from the mattress.

"_Hopefully this time, they'll give some clue as to why they took me."_

The door opened. Bear appeared in all his big glory with brown cargo pants and a black T-shirt.

Bear pointed to the mattress. "Sit down and don't move. If you try anything, I'll break your legs."

He complied by flopping back down. Bear's eyes darted around before stepping out of the doorway to reveal an older man with slightly tanned skin and dark gray, medium-length hair rounding his head like a mane. The man held an air of business, despite the causal look of dark jeans and light blue polo shirt.

"Hello, Mr. Spencer. It is Spencer, right?"

He nodded his head.

The older man's eyebrows rose in question and then turned a glaring eye at Bear; he seemed to have noted the reason for his lack of words.

"He was talking too much. It annoyed me." Bear stated offhandedly.

"Then ignore him." The older man then motioned for Bear to take the gag off. "His voice can't travel outside this room anyway."

Once the gag was off, he threw his own glare at Bear. It wasn't serious, but he like the mean expression Bear had when he took notice of the joke glare.

"Sorry about that, Mr. Spencer. My comrade likes to make additions, some of which I don't agree to."

"It's okay. Some people don't like to hear me talk, but I sure do." He looked at the older man. "So you're Leo?"

"Well you can call me that." The man answered waving a hand in the air. "We have many things to discuss, but you probably already know what I'm going to say with you being psychic."

"Oh! You know of my greatness, but sadly my ability doesn't extend to future events."

"Oh really?!" Leo took a step forward. "I never believed it anyway. I'm a man of science and fact is all that matters."

"If it's fact that matters, what's your beef with Lassiter? He's not a sciencey person."

"Nope, he's not. But it's not really him, it's more so his family."

His eyebrow rose.

"I see, sparked your interest."

"Are you related-"

"Do NOT associate me with them." He could see the anger flash in Leo's eyes before the man quickly recomposed himself. "Charles took something precious from me and I'm just returning the favor by exposing all of them for who they really are."

"Who they really are?" He repeated.

"Yes."

"So who are they really?" He asked leaning a bit forward.

A strange gleam quickly passed through Leo's eyes. "You'll find out what I'm talking about soon enough."

He leaned back a little upset at not getting the answer. "So if this is about Lassiter, why are you killing innocent people? They've done nothing to you."

"But that's the key. It both accelerates and pacifies the condition."

"Condition?"

"That is what I call it and what that condition is…" Leo paused as if in thought. "It's classified information."

"I know what it is." He blurted out.

"Eh. You do?"

"It's that weird stuff that's been happening to Lassiter. You drugged him with something. Didn't you?"

"Drug him?" Leo shrugged. "I just pushed buttons that were already there."

Silence fell between them for a second.

"Okay, so what's my purpose in your big plan? I know you must've been watching Lassiter for some time and you should know he hates me."

"You are right. I have been observing for quite some time." Leo pointed a finger at him. "And I know he marked you that night, making you a 'target' as he dubbed it."

"_So I was right."_

"It's an interesting mechanism." Leo continued trailing off into his thoughts. "But I'm curious. Between his conflicting instincts and the semi-compassion triangle that you, he, and his partner have, I want to see what happens. Will he surrender to it or will he continue to struggle with it? It's up in the air at this point."

"So this is just one big experiment to you?"

"Well you can turn anything into an experiment, so I'll have to say yes."

"Why are you answering all of my questions so readily?"

"To pass the time and because I'm a scientist. We are supposed to answer questions, but truthfully you won't be alive long enough to see the rising of tomorrow's sun or to pass on what I've told you anyway." Leo glanced at his watch. "He has until sundown to find you, in which I'm sure he will," Leo smirked. "But once he gets here, if he doesn't end his target," Leo then took out a medium sized, capped syringe from his pocket and twirled it in his hand. "I will make him."

His eyes followed the clear liquid swirling inside.

"After that, my objective will be complete and I'll move on."

"_While Lassiter gets blamed for everything."_ He looked at Leo. "Where's the other hostage?"

"What other hostage?"

"In your note it said that she was safe. Where's Lauren? Where is Lassiter's sister?"

"He has a sister? Interesting…" Leo placed the syringe back in his pocket. "And I was referring to his pretty pet partner. He complies with everything when I put her in the mix." Leo smirked and turned to head back out the door.

His eyes narrowed in a frown as Leo paused and turned to look back at him.

"Thanks for letting me know about his sister. After all this is over with, I'll have to pay her a visit like I did the others."

Leo and Bear disappeared out the door. He heard the lock click back in place and his shoulders slumped.

"_I got a lot of information, but I cost Lassie his sister. He is gonna kill me when he finds out, if Leo doesn't make him do it first."_

**AN: So there you go. Leo explains some things (at a price). Thank Shawn and his big mouth. But there is still some stuff Leo would rather keep to himself…**


	20. Ch19 Into the Bowels of Pineapples

**Chapter 19 – Into the Bowels of Pineapples**

She parked the car next to Gus' blue Echo. The Chief got out and Carlton waited patiently in the back for someone to open the door.

From what Chief Vick had said on the way, there was some serious evidence against her partner. So serious that he was actually arrested and placed in police custody early this morning and the fit he had before she entered, didn't make things any better.

While she and the Chief had talked, Carlton didn't interrupt. She figured he would put his two cents in, or at least defend himself. But he didn't.

Not one time.

He just sat back, looking out the window in total silence. It unnerved her. Truthfully, this whole situation had her nerves in a bunch.

He had looked so pale and lost in that bathroom.

And all that blood…

Everything was leading to more and more questions. Questions which Carlton had the answers to, but were unwilling to give up, even at the cost of his career.

"Why?"

Carlton looked at her as he stepped out the car. The Chief had already gone on ahead.

"Did you say something, O'Hara?"

She looked up at him, saddened. "Why won't you tell us what's going on?"

He closed the door and mumbled a reply before hurrying away from her.

"What?" She followed trying to match his steps and almost ran into him when he suddenly stopped.

"Carlton." She followed his line of sight.

He was staring at Shawn's bike.

"What's wrong?"

She watched him take a few cautious steps toward it and circle around to the back. She watched him study the bike before feeling the metal.

"_What is he looking at?"_

She ventured over.

Looking, she saw four deep scratch marks. She leaned in to get a good look and then she heard a strange sound: a deep rumble. She paused and looked at her partner. He was glaring at her sideways and his mouth was set in a toothy scowl. The sound got louder and she jumped back when he jerked toward her as if telling her to back off. The rumbling sound stopped abruptly and Carlton looked over at her, his face full of guilt. He muttered an apology and turned away from her heading down the sidewalk toward Shawn's apartment.

She stood there dumbfounded.

"_What was that all about? Was he growling at me?"_

* * *

><p>"<em>I can't believe that happened." <em>He hurried away from O'Hara.

That 'flash' had been intense, and for minute, he thought his partner was encroaching on his _hunt_.

He shook his head. These thoughts were really starting to affect him.

Silence met him as he rounded the corner to see the Chief, Guster, and McNab huddled in front of the apartment. He disregarded what he had heard them say in hushed tones before he showed up.

"Where's the package?" Irritation evident in his voice.

All of them, even McNab, had different degrees of resentment on their face.

He didn't feel like bothering with the why. He knew why.

"Where's Detective O'Hara?"

He sighed. "Chief, she coming in about three seconds."

And within those seconds, she appeared next to him. Her questioning gaze met his.

"Carlton, what happened back there?"

He walked away, past other questioning gazes, and entered the apartment.

He also didn't feel like answer questions about something he truly didn't understand himself. He was here to find Spencer, confront Leo, and make him reverse what he did (which should set everything back to how it was before).

But first he had to go in the apartment and receive the package.

Instead he found himself frozen at the entrance.

That pineapple smell was everywhere. He knew it was _his_ scent. He had been put two and two together a while ago and he'd hate to admit, but it was that sweet smell that super powered those disturbing thoughts to taking over. And the flood of feelings it brought with it was starting to drive him insane.

He backed out, away from the entrance, and into fresh air hoping to extinguish the torrent of tingling sensations and images.

And when it didn't ease, he started to feel overwhelmingly lightheaded and he grabbed the wall.

He wasn't totally unaware of the inquiring voices of the people around him. He just didn't acknowledge them.

It was best to fix the inside, and then deal with the outside.

He took a couple of deep breaths: in out, in out, in out…

"_It's not helping."_

He felt someone grabbed him.

"Carlton, what's wrong?"

He looked over as darkness started to overtake him. His partner stood beside him, but it was someone else holding him up.

"I can't go in there… the pineapples…" His voiced slurred at the end.

"Why–?"

That word repeated in his head as daylight suddenly turned into the deepest night.

* * *

><p>"<em>Well that was unexpected."<em>

She looked at her unconscious partner as Buzz tried to hold him up before gently setting him down on the sidewalk.

"Pineapples? What did he mean?" Buzz asked once he stood up.

All of them were wondering the same thing.

"I don't know." She answered and looked over at Chief Vick. "Do you think this has something to do with what happened in the bathroom at the station?"

The Chief looked at her.

"What happened at the station?" Gus voiced.

"Officer McNab, go get the first aid from your car."

"Yes Ma'am." Buzz ran off around the corner.

Gus took a step forward. "What happened at the station?" He asked again.

She started to answer, but the Chief placed her hand up to stop her.

"Detective Lassiter was place in custody today in connection with the Wednesday morning murder."

"It was the jacket, right?" Gus asked looking at the Chief.

"Yes, that and his blood, but how did you know that Mr. Guster?"

"Shawn mentioned it before the warehouse incident. That's why we were at the warehouse. He got some weird vibe."

Buzz bounced back around the corner with the first aid kit. He handed the kit to the Chief.

"Detective O'Hara, take care of your partner. I'm going to see about this package."

Chief Vick placed the kit in her outstretched hand.

"Officer McNab, come with me." The Chief pulled a pairs of latex gloves from her pocket and put them on.

They both disappeared into the apartment.

She looked down at Carlton. He looked so pale and he was still, so still.

"What am I supposed to do?" She mumbled to herself.

"Jules." She looked back at Gus. "Maybe I can help."

She gave him a surprised look.

Gus just stretched out his hand. "I can't ignore someone in need, even if they are the reason my best friend was taken, and the quicker he wakes up, the quicker we can get Shawn back."

Giving up the kit, she stepped back allowing Gus to kneeled down and put on the latex gloves.

"The Chief never finished telling you what happened." She said as Gus started examining her partner. "He had some kind of episode while Internal Affairs interrogated him and he ran out. The Chief and I found him leaning against the wall in the bathroom. He looked just as pale as he is now and he had been on the verge of collapse there, too. Come to find out, he had thrown up a lot of blood in one of the stalls."

"He vomited blood?" Gus paused and looked up at her. "That's a sign of something internal. Why didn't you take him to the hospital?"

She looked away and muttered one word.

"Shawn."

In truth, she really hadn't thought about getting medical care after leaving the station. He had seemed fine afterwards. Her priority was getting Shawn and it had seem Carlton felt the same way because he pushed away any mentioning of doctors in favor of getting here to help find Shawn.

Now because of her narrow-mindedness, her partner was suffering from some unknown illness that got the best of him and it could've been avoided with a quick trip to the hospital.

"_It would've been easy to skip the long wait time with a showing of badges and the Chief's word." _

All-in-all, she felt guilty.

"Maybe, it is a drug." She heard Gus muttered.

"Drug?"

Gus looked back up at her. "Shawn and I have been bouncing a lot of theories between us, one involving them dosing him with drugs and another involving someone framing him. There are others, but they're… well you know how Shawn gets."

"Yes, I know, but it's not drugs. The Chief said his blood work and tests from yesterday were normal. Nothing unusual."

Gus stood up. "It could be something experimental. Something they wouldn't have a test for."

She stayed silent, trying to ponder the information.

"And with that thought in mind, we have to wake him. Time is ticking and he's the only lead to Shawn." Gus continued.

"No he's not the only lead. The box should give a clue. I'm going to see if the Chief found anything. Stay here and try to wake Carlton."

She turned and started away from her still unconscious partner and Gus.

**AN: I would tell Gus to run, but I kinda of know what happens next. So… Um… Yea. (Gus' magichead, hehe)**

**Anyway, is it me or did it seem that Chief Vick really wasn't concern about her sick Head Detective? Why in the world did that come out like that? *shrugs* Too late to change it. I guess she was concerned internally.**


	21. Ch20 A Mixed Reality

**Chapter 20 – A Mixed Reality**

Darkness fled from his sight as intense white took over. He blinked a couple of times as his vision cleared.

"_Where am I?"_

He tried to sit up, but found he couldn't. Leather bound him to the bed he was laying on. He struggled and then paused when something caressed his cheek. He flinched away from the contact and glared up at the appearing silhouette partially covering the light.

"Shh… It's alright. There's no need to get so worked up." The male figure dressed in doctor garb and surgical mask was indistinct in the shadow even when he squint his eyes. "This is a safe place. Sorry for the inconvenience, but you need your treatment." The man grasped the bed out of his sight.

"_Treatment?" _

The light started to move away and another took its place and another took that one's place. He didn't know where this person was taking him and he knew nothing was wrong with him.

"_I don't need any treatment."_

He fought with the restraints.

"Calm down." The man said coolly. "This is for your own good."

He paused again, looking up at the man. "For my own good?"

"Yes. You'll understand soon. Hopefully then you will stop running and finally take command."

"_Running? Take command?"_

"Now," the man continued, "just enjoy the ride. We're almost there."

The man pushed him past a set of double doors and into a dimly lit room.

"Wait here. Treatment will begin shortly."

The man left him underneath another light and walked away. He heard the double door close and he laid there in silence listening as the footsteps faded away. Once he knew no one was coming, he started his struggle again. Minutes later the latch popped off and the straps fell away.

He sat up and looked back at the double doors, checking for that strange man. He could see nothing through the frosted windows.

"_I have to get out of here."_

He took note of his white, short-sleeved scrubs and lack of socks before looking around the room.

The walls were darkened, but he could see the crisp and clean white color. Different metal and plastic equipment littered the room around the edge of the light.

There was only one exit and that way was the same one he had just came from.

He would have to risk it.

So, he threw his legs over the edge of the bed and his feet didn't even touch the floor.

He was shocked.

"_The floor shouldn't be that far down."_

He stared downward. His reflection stared back from the glossy, red floor.

A reflection that felt wrong.

He didn't know why.

Something dripped beyond the light and he looked up. He could see the floor ripple slightly like water before becoming still. That confused the heck out of him. Floors don't ripple.

Suddenly, he was being dragged downward by his right leg. He grabbed the bed and glanced back to see a bloody hand pulling him from the floor. His muddled reflection seemed to be smirking.

Long nails dug into his leg and he screamed kicking at the hand.

Liquid flew everywhere.

It felt like hours before the hand finally let go and sunk back into the floor.

Red stained his pants as he jumped back on the bed looking down and around the floor, frantically.

His reflection was gone.

Then he realized why the reflection felt wrong. Everything on the other side was deteriorated and in varied states of disrepair.

The floor now looked a lot like a barrier between two worlds.

A world he wouldn't want to visit anytime soon.

He glanced at the exit. It stood a few feet away, teasing him.

"_Maybe I can jump over to it and quickly swim the rest."_

Standing up, he prepared himself to make the jump.

The bed tipped over just as he sprung from it, throwing his momentum off. He ended up sinking in the thick liquid farther away from the door than he expected.

Chucks of red liquid flew in the air as he struggled to swim toward the exit. He stopped to catch his breath. The exit appeared to not have gotten any closer.

Suddenly something grabbed his shoulders from the back. He fought to stay up. But their strength was more and he was pulled down into the red abyss.

He felt the hands leave and he gradually opened his eyes.

His reflection stood in front, looking at him with head slightly cocked to the side. Warily, he looked back. There were shadows moving behind the doppelganger in a gentle wave and he could see something black wrapped around its neck.

He quickly glanced around.

Everything was covered in splashes of red. But the floor was pristine white and solid.

He was stuck.

His twin seemed to smirk at his predicament before straightening its head and letting its expression fall blank. It then stretched out its right hand as if to offer a truce or something. It was covered in red and still dripping.

Shaking his head, he stepped back.

Everything felt wrong.

It took a step forward to match his retreat, which was soon stopped by something pushing him forward. He glanced back to see a shadowed girl. Her pale appearance distinct from her hair and clothes intermixed in the dark vapors now surrounding the room. She was motioning forward. He shook his head frantically and looked back at his double.

He didn't want to touch it, but he soon found his arm moving on its own to meet the hand of his mirror image. The shadows moved wildly behind the clone as he fought the invisible strings. His arm continued, extending ever so slowly.

He watched in horror as their hands were inches, then centimeters apart…

And then bright light encased everything in a blinding wave.

**AN: This is what happens when two different projects seep into each other. **

**I was working on a Silent Hill fanfic before the idea for Berserker popped into my head and took over. So this chapter, which was written in the early stages of Berserker, was spurred by that. The whole apartment scene was initially created for this chapter. I just couldn't let it die. It's too special to die. Don't you think? **

**So thank this chapter for getting Shawn kidnapped.**


	22. Ch21 A Box Full of Possibilities

**Chapter 21 – A Box Full of Possibilities**

Gasping, his blue eyes shot open and he sat up, startling the person next to him.

"_What was that all about?"_

He looked down at his shaking hands.

He had almost touched it, but he didn't and he felt relieved.

He didn't fully understand why.

Someone waved a hand in his face and he looked over, wide eyed.

"Lassiter, are you okay? I've been calling your name for about five minutes."

"Guster?" He wiped a hand down his face trying to compose himself. "I'm fine-" He felt his stomach jump. Covering his mouth, he hopped up and ran to the nearest bush. It seemed like his entire insides were gushing out. Two heaves in, it stopped and he felt better until he wiped his mouth and blood was speckled on the back of his hand.

Standing straight, he looked over, unconsciously wiping the soiled hand on his suit jacket. Guster stood closest to him, but everyone else was standing by the entrance to the apartment, looking at him.

"_They must've come out to see what the commotion was."_

All of them had different expressions of apprehension.

"I'm fine." He said bluntly.

"You are not okay. Vomiting blood and passing out are never good signs. You need to go to the hospital." Guster stated.

He glared at Guster. "I'm not going to the hospital. We need to find Spencer first. I've wasted too much time as it is by passing out."

"We can't have you on the search," the Chief added. "If you're suffering from some unknown sickness. It's a liability we can't afford."

He glanced at his boss. Her face was stern.

"I am not sick." He saw Guster open his mouth. He threw a special glare his way. Guster immediately shut it back. "Just bring me the package."

McNab made a move to go back in the apartment, but the Chief halted him.

"I'm not hurt." He growled glancing back at the group. "It's not even my blood."

He hadn't meant for that last part to be said and all of them looked confused.

"Not your blood?" O'Hara took a hesitant step toward him.

He looked away.

"What do you mean?" She asked. "It came out of you."

He stayed silent.

"Detective, answer O'Hara's question."

"_How am I supposed to answer?" _He looked at Chief Vick and then he spotted the bagged item in her gloved hand. "Chief, what is that in your hand?" He pointed.

"Do not change the subject like you did before. You are in enough trouble as it is."

"Just show it to me."

Chief Vick held her ground.

"Please." He reluctantly pleaded.

She lifted the item for him to see.

Now, some of the earlier flashes made sense and he couldn't hide the frustration from his face at the revelation. He cursed.

"Detective, do you know what this is?"

"Yes." He growled.

"Well what is it?"

The thought of **him **trespassing on his turf and getting away with sifting through his stuff, made him want to strangle a certain someone, but he took a few deep breaths before answering.

"It's proof that Spencer came into my house last night uninvited, rattled some chains, and took a very confusing piece of this whole puzzle, which is what's in your hand." He said gritting his teeth.

Spencer always had a knack for doing every pet peeve he had. It frustrated him to the extreme and frankly this pet peeve was at the top of his list. He valued privacy above anything else, even his love for guns.

He knew Chief Vick wouldn't readily hand over the leather strap. It was now evidence and a major piece of interest. He mentally sighed.

Before anyone could ask him another question, he 'kindly' asked for the box again and reminded everyone that time was not on their side. The Chief waved McNab away to go fetch the package.

He didn't know what really happened last night. All he had were these 'flash' thoughts and images.

"_He's probably the reason why I woke up in my backyard next to a freaking dog carcass."_

McNab came back with the package. It was cut open.

"And this was on top." McNab said holding out a piece of paper.

He took the paper and read it.

**Mr. Head Detective,**

**I don't take too kindly to cattle getting close. They don't deserve to know. **

**Don't you agree?**

**So we've taken the liberty of dealing with two nosy pets of yours. One of them didn't make it, but I left you a small reminder. The other one is safe until sundown. **

**You know where we are. Just follow your nose.**

**-Leo**

**PS: He wants to see his Lassie and again tell your pretty pet hi for me.**

He frowned at the message.

"_O'Hara is not a pet."_

He motioned for McNab to give him the box.

He looked inside. A picture of a mutilated body lying on the ground surrounded by thick tree trunks met him. The body had an officer's uniform.

He saw another flash of darken trees.

He shook his head of the image and looked at Chief Vick.

"Who is this?"

"That, I'm assuming, is Officer James Smallworth. He went missing during his patrol after the warehouse incident." The Chief's tough demeanor looked sadden.

"He had called in to HQ about investigating a suspicious person before disappearing," McNab added. "And his squad car was found a couple of miles away from the Brentford warehouse on that long stretch of road…um, I forgot the name. But he was never found."

He looked down at the picture, studying it.

%%%

"Hey you stop right there!"

He was not in the mood to be pestered again. He just satisfied that beast and now he had to get home and cleaned up before the sun rose. So he ignored the man and continued walking until he heard the familiar click of a gun being drawn.

"Put your hands up and get on the ground."

He paused and glanced back. The officer was nervous and his hands were shaking. _"I guess he noticed all the blood."_

He exhaled noisily.

"I said put your hands up and get on the ground before you get a bullet in your-"

He turned around. "A bullet in my what?"

The officer looked shocked and the gun relaxed in his hand.

"Detective Lassiter?"

He smirked and raised a blood dripping hand.

"You should know not to follow a suspect into a deserted area, rookie."

He still felt a little of the bloodlust and he allowed a bit to show. He bared his teeth and took a couple of steps toward the man.

The scared officer then turned tail and ran away, screaming.

He stood there shaking his head. _"Coward. He had a gun." _He turned and started back on the trail to his house."All he had to do was shoot once and I would've been the one running."

%%%

Fingers snapped in his face and he jumped up, wide eyed. Chief Vick stood in front of him.

"This is the same thing that happened in the interrogation room." He heard Chief Vick mutter to the others. "Detective, are you back with us?"

He nodded his head and placed the picture back in box to rub his forehead.

First the jacket, now this picture.

They were causing these vivid images, no memories, to come back to him; however, these were different from the flashes. With memories, came realization and things were starting to click in place, but there were still some major missing pieces. Like how was he walking around at night and having no reaction to blood dripping from his fingers?

"_Where did the fresh blood come from anyway? After we find Spencer, I should take a trip to the warehouse to see if memories of what happened that night would appear. Maybe it'll clear up some other stuff." _

"Who had to shoot once and you would've been running?"

His thoughts cut off as his head jerked toward the Chief.

"_Did I say that out loud?" _He thought and answered with an "I don't know."

He reached for the picture. The Chief grabbed his arm.

"Carlton, I'm getting fed up with you withholding information and changing the subject. Give me a straight answer."

He remained silent.

"Detective O'Hara already told me what happened right before you attacked Mr. Spencer the other night. You need to tell me if you did this." The Chief tapped the picture in the box.

O'Hara's accusations were now coming from the Chief.

He threw a glare at his partner. She withstood it as usual.

McNab looked both stunned and confused; he was out of the loop as usual.

Guster stood by warily.

He looked back at his boss and decided to answer the question.

"I didn't kill Smallworth nor," He threw an intense glare at O'Hara, "did I kill Marks." He looked back at the Chief. "I admit my memory has been a little sketchy at best and lately, I've been slowly getting it back. I just remembered meeting Smallworth in a wooded area. I guess I was that suspicious person he was investigating, but I scared him and he ran off in some random direction. Leo and his group must've been tracking me after the warehouse incident and seen him as a liability to their cause."

"And what cause is that?" The Chief asked.

He stayed silent. He was not ready to release that information just yet.

O'Hara stepped toward him. He could tell she was upset. "It has something to do with that deal you made, right?"

He looked away.

"That's the reason Shawn got taken," Guster added his two cents in. "He found something out last night when he went to your house."

"I see, Detective Lassiter." McNab piped in. "You're trying to keep us from getting involved because the hostage that Shawn mentioned could be anyone who gets too close."

He didn't answer, instead he removed the picture from the white Styrofoam covering and looked at the small, typed message he had spotted next to the plastic handle.

**You recognize it. Now, it's time #2 accept it. **

**Go ahead, pull the trigger.**

"_This must be step two."_

He pulled the handle lifting the white top and peeked inside. He could see dark liquid and a large dark lump. He quickly closed it. He knew what the note implied.

There was no way he was doing that, freely.

He handed the box to the Chief

"What's wrong, Detective Lassiter?"

He shook his head and backed away. "I'm not doing it."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm talking about the second note and what's in the box."

"What's in the box?" Guster asked as he walked over to read the note.

"Gus you don't-"

"It's a liver." O'Hara glared at McNab as Gus visibly paled.

McNab shrunk back a little.

O'Hara turned to him. "But what is the note talking about? We bounced some ideas between us, but we couldn't figure out how this would help find Shawn."

"Oh, it would find Spencer all right." He nodded his head as he said it. His mind connected the flashes with Spencer's apparent late night espionage. "I know, now."

"Well take your gun and pull the trigger. Make sure the safety's on." McNab said a little too jokey for his taste and he made it clear with another well placed glare.

"First off, I don't have my gun. It was confiscated. And secondly, the trigger their talking about has nothing to do with a gun, you idiot. It has to do with their MO." He looked at the others, his hardened gaze trying to hide his fear. "And if I pull that trigger…" He swallowed hard. "There's no telling what could happen."

"But we need to find Shawn and we have only a few hours left."

Guster was right. The sun was starting to descent rapidly. He looked at everyone and everyone looked back him.

"It shouldn't be that bad." Everyone turned to look at the speaker strangely.

McNab seemed to really not know when to be quiet. His optimism at the situation was starting to get on his nerves.

"It's the reason I've been having blackouts and vomiting blood." He spat before thinking, "_I don't want to accept it_."

"Well Detective Lassiter, it's your decision and as Mr. Guster has stated, time is running out. Do you have another way to find Mr. Spencer's location?" The Chief asked.

He took a moment to think.

"_They left no leads other than this box, so they want me to track them and the only way to do that is to do what the note says." _He shook his head. "No. _Although I wish there was another way."_

He glanced at O'Hara. She didn't show it, but he could see she was about as scared as he was, for a different reason. Spencer was special to her. He personally didn't feel anything for the fraud. But… His conscience was blaring, so he gave in.

He stretched out his hand.

"Give me the box. _I'll sacrifice for her and her alone_." The box was placed in his hand. Giving the picture to the Chief, he looked back up at them. "When I do this, stay away from me for a second. I really don't know what's going to happen. And McNab, pull out your taser."

McNab complied hesitantly.

He turned and walked a few feet away from them. There was no way he was going let them see because what he was about to do…

What Leo was making him do…

It would cause all of his flashes and weird memories to become real, especially to the people behind him.

He looked at the box in his hands.

The same box that could unlock something he ultimately had no control of.

Memories of what happened in that dark room played through his head.

"_Free yourself, Carlton. Accept it."_

His frown sharpened downward.

**AN: Yes Lassie, pull the trigger. *evil laugh* Pull it…**


	23. Ch22 Sipping the Bittersweet Nectar

**AN: So here it is. The Original Chapter 5 and the reveal of what happened back at the warehouse. And to add a note, this chapter had a little bit of inspiration from silverluna's story **_**"Hard To Believe It Will Be Okay."**_** Awesome story btw. If you ever have a chance, read it. Poor Lassie, getting tortured. For those that read it already, you will probably recognize exactly what inspired me. **

**Also while you're reading, look out for the correction from Chapter 9's wrongness. It's one word and starts with 's' and ends in 'a'. ****Please note: This chapter does have extreme disturbingness. (blood, gore, and a bit of violence) You have been warned!**

**Chapter 22 – Sipping the Bittersweet Nectar**

A single lantern kept the darkness at bay, but it melted and twisted any details of the killers from his sight. They stood by patiently waiting for his answer.

He swallowed hard glancing at the unconscious O'Hara tied to a chair across from him.

"_Should I really make a deal with these psychos?" _

Both his life and the life of his partner were at stake. If it was just him here, he wouldn't give in to any deals, no matter the cost.

He kept his icy stare trained on Leo. "What is it you want?"

The man next to him cracked his knuckles.

Leo glared at Bear before looking down at him. "I will take that as a yes. First off, know that we are here to help you get rid of this fake facade they've created for you and to awaken your true self."

"_My true self? What is this? Some stupid religious cult?"_

"My request is for you to take the steps necessary in freeing yourself and to understand why we are doing what we do. Hopefully you'll realize you don't have to protect and discipline **cattle **anymore."

"_Are they trying to recruit me? These people must have some kind of mental issue."_ He scoffed staring at Leo. "Let me get this right. You want me to understand why you kill innocent people by knowing myself?" Leo nodded his head. "Well, haven't you noticed? It's my job to hunt down people like you, who leave a trail of dead bodies in their wake. You think I'm going to throw away years of hard work just to become like you and your group of psychos. Do not compare me to you. I know who I am." He spat.

"You can deny it all you want, but by the time you leave this area you will have taken your first step out of your veil." Leo started to pace the inner rings of the light.

His glaring eyes never left Leo's form.

"Now, there are three steps that will free you, but before I tell you what those steps are, I have to know that you are willing to go through the process." Leo nodded to the Bear who then disappeared behind him. "And the first step is more than enough to test you."

Struggling and muffled screams could be heard as Bear came back into his view carrying a blond-haired woman in a bear hug. Her mouth and hands were duck taped.

"Does she look familiar to you, detective?"

He studied the woman. She did look familiar.

Then it dawned on him.

That was the missing woman that Chief Vick was talking about. He gritted his teeth.

Now he had two lives in his hands.

"By your expression, I'm guessing you do. She was our little escapee you helped last night." Leo saw the confusion on his face. "When you interrupted our hunt and killed one of my comrades, I was furious and I wanted you dead. Then I realized you were the kindred spirit I felt when we first got here, but you weren't all there." Leo pointed to his head. "If I could open your eyes, then you could become an extremely valuable asset and ally." Leo started to pace the room. "However I know you would never readily join our little family because of the state you're in and the baggage you carry." He twirled his right pointer finger around in the air. "But we have a solution and it involves you taking her life to rectify your previous action. Thus your first step: recognition."

His eyes widen at the bluntness and lack of emotion from the statement.

"Let her go." He forced his attention to the girl. "Allison you are going to be okay."

"No she's not." Leo sung and held out his hand. The woman placed the knife in Leo's outstretched hand. "Let's see what you really are, **Lassiter**."

He noted the harsh spat of his last name.

His eyes followed the knife as it moved and danced in Leo's hand.

"You see, there's something known as the trigger. It's connected to the senses and it is slightly different for all of us…who are gifted." Leo started a pensive pace around the room, still whirling the knife around in his hands. "You're a detective, a pretty good one at that, so you should be immune to individual triggers: the smell, the sight, the sound, and maybe even the feel of it." Leo stopped his pacing and pointed the knife at him. "But you might not be immune to the taste, so just in case, let's just try all the triggers and see how you react."

Leo walked over to his prisoner and rubbed her cheek lovingly. Allison flinched away when he ripped the tape from her mouth. She pleaded with tears falling from her face.

Ignoring her, Leo gave him a strange smile. "Trigger number one."

He knew what was about to happen and he struggled, trying to free himself. His yells soon intermingled with that of Allison's screams as Leo plunged the knife into Allison's lower throat and slid it downward to her abdomen. Her shirt was ripped, blood spattered on the floor, and her screams never left the room.

"Trigger number two."

He watched as Leo used his hands to spread the skin apart exposing the peach colored bones of her rib cage. Shocked at the brutality, his eyes couldn't leave her twitching form. He knew he was screaming for them to stop, but his mind felt so muddled with guilt and helpless.

And despite everything, he could still register her continued screams.

His eyes watered, but didn't fall.. He wished he could put a bullet in her head and end her suffering because deep down inside, he wanted to stop the screaming that would most likely haunt him until he die.

Closing his eyes, he let his head droop. He couldn't bear to see any more. But he continued to hear the sounds of flesh ripping, bones breaking, and blood dripping on the floor. It seemed like hours passed until he heard the final sound of something hitting the table in front of him. Her screams had long died, but they continued to rebound in his head. He couldn't bring himself to look up because he could already smell the strong metallic odor coming from the now dead girl he failed to save.

An image of O'Hara lying on the ground in a pool of blood floated in his mind and he shook his head of the thought.

"_Do NOT take that route."_ He thought to himself.

Leo said something, but his focus was purely on keeping the contents of his stomach from making a surprise showing in his lap and keeping his mind from accepting the fact that they might not leave this room alive.

His head was suddenly yanked up by his hair. Leo was standing close to him with his face dipped in shadows. "Hey Detective, you still there?"

He grunted in response. His eyes fell on Allison's body lying on the table in front of him. Her blank eyes seemed accusing and his frown deepened.

A painful pull brought his eyes to look back at Leo.

"We still have two more."

"Bastard." He gritted through his teeth.

Leo let his hair go and brought the knife to his face. It shined with blood.

"Trigger number four." Leo whispered and cut the tie to his right hand.

His fist shot out to punch the man, but Bear grabbed it and slammed it on the table. Pain flooded his hand and he cradled it to his chest. Now he knew the table was made of solid wood.

Leo shook the knife in his face. "Don't do that again. I don't want to cause a potential member unnecessary pain, but as you can see, my friend won't hesitate."

Leo grabbed his cradled hand and guided it toward the body's exposed chest. He pulled back, but a punch to the head from Bear quickly stopped his struggling.

His vision swum a little and he let them do whatever.

It felt warm and he wriggled his slightly numb fingers.

"_This is disgusting." _

Leo let go and stepped back studying him. He quickly pulled his bloody hand back and sat it on the table.

"Hm… I figured something would've happened by now. Either you've activated it before or you have a stronger will than Ethan."

"_Ethan?"_

Leo grinned at his confused expression. "I forgot you never had a chance to meet him. Check your stemma." Leo flipped the knife in his hand making the blade point downward. "Well on to the last trigger."

He looked down when Leo reached in her chest cavity and looked back when Leo placed something heavy and dripping in his hand.

"Trigger number five."

He looked up at Leo confused. Leo responded by licking his bloody fingers. Shaking his head, he dumped the organ on the table.

He couldn't help himself from flinching when he saw a fist coming at his head. But surprisingly, Leo stopped Bear and strolled over to the opposite end of the table.

He cursed when he saw Leo leaning over his partner and playing with the reddened knife in front of her unaware face.

"Okay I'll do it. Just back away from her." He growled.

Leo complied.

He grabbed the thing off the table. Blood oozed from its openings. He slowly put it close to his face.

"_Don't you __**ever **__eat anything raw, or you will __**die**__!" _A heavy male voice echoed in his head. The suddenness of those words startled him, and he almost dropped it.

"_But I have to do this for my partner… for Juliet…"_ He glanced at her unconscious form before looking at the red organ in his hands. _"Just think about survival boot camp. You had to eat all kinds of nasty stuff. This should be no different."_

Steeling himself, he took his first big bite into the left ventricle. He chewed and then swallowed. The texture was tough and he had to suppress his gag reflex to continue eating. Minutes later, he was down to the last few bites.

Dazed, he looked at Leo as he popped the last piece in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. A smirk was at the edge of his lips, but it dropped when he saw Leo grinning.

"It seems I was right."

"Right about what?" He wanted to say, but the words just didn't come out. He scowled.

He felt fine other than feeling nauseous, a little numb, and having a slight pressure behind his eyes. He chalked that last one up to stress.

Suddenly, Leo turned his head to stare at the area behind his partner. His grin faded. "We have visitors roaming the area. Lucky for you… or is it unlucky for them?" Leo looked at him. "Well Mr. Head Detective, we'll be making our leave. Don't worry you'll see us again. You have to finish the steps. As for now, we will do what we promised."

With a sudden blur of movement, Leo and his companions were gone and he found the ties cut from around his left wrist and legs.

Not wasting time, he stood up wearily. The chair tumbled behind him. O'Hara was still out cold. Blood was everywhere. Allison's body was lying on the floor and his skin was tingling like it had just woken up from a long nap. He rubbed his wrists. They were raw and bleeding from his struggle.

"_At least they kept their end of the deal."_

His smirk turned quickly into a grimace when it felt like his heart was going to jump out of his chest. Groaning he leaned on the table grabbing his chest.

And as quickly as it came it left.

"_What was that? It better not be signs of a heart attack. That would be pure irony."_

He shook it off and walked over to his partner taking with him the dimming light source off its rope. Grabbing the knife his captors conveniently left behind, he placed the lantern on the table in front of his partner and started to cut at the ties. But he only got through two before his skin started to tingle like fire, his vision started to narrow, and the smell of blood started to overpower him. He jerked up dropping the knife back on the table.

He didn't faint.

He felt strangely different.

He looked at his hands. Bright red blood was dripping from his fingers.

He wanted to taste it… and he did. The nectar was sweet, but cold. Better if it's warm.

He looked at the female tied to the chair. Her heartbeat was strong.

He bent down smelling and he touched her cheek leaving a red trail. She was warm.

He leaned in, almost nuzzling her cheek.

"_I wonder what she tastes like."_

And then he realized how wrong that was.

Horrified, he backed away, almost tripping over the dead body.

This was his partner, not something to eat.

He looked at O'Hara, who was blissfully unaware, and his stomach growled.

"_It seems I was right."_ Leo' voiced echoed in his head.

That weird feeling was taking over.

He shook his head. It didn't leave.

"_What did they do? I can't trust myself. I have to get away from her." _

He glanced at the door that was behind his chair and went to it. Opening, he stole a quick glimpse at his vulnerable partner before entering the darkness of the hallway and closing the door behind him.

Never taking notice of the extra baggage he took with him.

**AN: So… heavy chapter. Who really thought Lassie had killed that girl?** **And also did you find the correction for chapter 9? I'll give another hint. Leo says it.**


	24. Ch23 To Activate, Press 5 Now

**Chapter 23 – To Activate Press 5 Now**

Looking down at the white Styrofoam lid in the cardboard box, he shivered at the brief chill that passed through him.

He still couldn't remember what happened after he left O'Hara in that conference room, but from what he had heard and could conclude, it wasn't good.

And one way to avoid a repeat… was to not lose consciousness or get overrun by those feelings.

"_So I'm prepared." _He thought trying to look on the bright side._ "I know what will happen and I can keep it at bay."_

Trying to ignore the stinging of eyes staring a few feet behind him, he took a deep breath and his mind started counting off just like Leo did back in that room.

"_One."_

He took the lid from the box and dropped it on the ground.

The smell was sickening.

"_Two."_

He stuck his right pointer in and wriggled it in the blood for a moment. It was cold.

"_Three."_

Grimacing, he lifted his red-covered finger and quickly put it in his mouth. It tasted disgusting, but surprisingly his body didn't gag. Nothing happened as a matter of fact.

"_Four."_

He looked back in the box. The reddish-brown thing jiggled in its container, causing it to sound like thick splashes of water. Reluctantly, he reached back in and pinched a piece of the organ away.

"_Five."_

He pulled it out, looking at it. It was about the size of a golf ball and darkened red dripped from it. He felt both revolted and fascinated. Then his stomach rumbled and without realizing it, he had down the piece and started chewing on the liver from the box.

Shocked at himself, he paused swallowing the new piece in his mouth and dropped the organ back in the box.

"_Why am I doing this?"_ He thought wiping away the little bit of wet he could feel on the side of his mouth with his right sleeve. _"There has to be another way."_ His eyes turned from the box to stare at his right hand. Dark red stuck to his fingers with disturbing glossiness.

Somewhere inside, he felt there was supposed to be more red. Bright red.

He mentally shook his head of the thought, but it stuck and started looping becoming mutely demanding in its force.

Suddenly, his heart thrummed hard against his chest causing slight tremors to travel throughout his body. The box dropped from his hand and he grasped his chest. It felt like his heart was trying to tear itself away from him. He staggered forward a bit and fell to his knees. Lying bowed on the ground, he clinched his teeth to prevent himself from crying out.

He took a couple of deep breaths…

And then it stopped.

Registering the presence of others and a hand rubbing his back, he croaked out an "I'm fine" trying to reassure them.

"_Who am I kidding?" _

He knew he was anything, but fine. The immense flood of random thoughts and sensations were a testimony to that and he fought to keep them from driving him into unconsciousness.

"_Because if that happens…" _

He didn't want to think about it.

His eyes wandered back to the box. Its spilled contents stretched across the sidewalk and he pulled his hand away from the growing puddle.

"_It doesn't look very appetizing. It was too cold." _He thought and then quickly added. _"I wouldn't want it to be appetizing anyway."_

His stomach twisted in hunger.

He wanted something warm, something that can run, something that was fair game...

He kept his eyes down and sniffed the air.

There were four that fit the criteria.

A small breeze blew by, alerting him to a fifth.

His head popped up, trained on the area before him. Something darted away and around the corner. Jumping up from his position on the ground, he left potential quarry (_associates_, he reminded himself) behind, tore down the sidewalk, and around the corner after the fifth.

* * *

><p>Standing up, she stared at her partner as he quickly disappeared around the corner of the building.<p>

"Where is he going?" She asked, looking at the others. A pale Gus stood off a ways trying to hold his ground. Buzz still had his taser out.

"Maybe he found a lead." Chief Vick answered.

She jogged past her boss and around the corner. The others soon followed.

She wondered what exactly he did with the liver, since they were standing so far away. But a major side of her didn't want to know because her eyes had immediately noticed the smaller sized organ lying on the ground next to the dropped box. And it seemed the Chief noticed also; her stiff posture had softened to guarded concern and confusion.

They found Carlton squatting, with his back to them next to Gus' Echo. He was struggling to restrain something. She heard the familiar cries of a cat and she ran to her crouched partner. But before she could round to his front, he stood up. His blank eyes were staring at the struggling orange tabby. He was holding it by its neck and hind feet. Carlton didn't seem to care that he was hurting the animal or that it was digging its claws in his arm, and with the way he was gazing at it, it unsettled her.

She didn't know what was going through her partner's head, but hearing the cries of the cat made her mad. She was not going to let harm come to an animal, if she had the power to do something about it.

"Carlton put the cat down." She said defiantly fully stepping in front of him. He glanced at her and quickly looked back at the cat. She could see his grip tighten around the neck. The cat screamed.

Without even realizing it, she grabbed the taser from Buzz, who had followed closely behind her and shot it at her partner. The cat bounced away from Carlton's grasp as he froze from the electrical charge.

She took her finger off the trigger and lowered the 'gun'. She could see his muscles convulsing a little and the intense glare he was giving her as he yanked the electrodes from his shoulder.

Handing the taser back to Buzz, she walked closer to her motionless partner. His eyes followed her and then diverted to the ground.

"I don't know what you were about to do, but-"

"Go away." She heard Carlton mutter lowly. He was gritting his teeth and his hands were balled up.

"I'm not going away." She reached a hand out in comfort. "We need to find Shawn first."

A blood-covered hand grabbed her wrist before she could touch him and she yelled out at the suddenness.

"When I find him…" He growled and she watched with a hint of panic as he turned his head to look directly at her. "He is dead." His light blue eyes narrowed with surprising coldness.

She looked up at him, her face showing her shock at his statement. _"He wouldn't."_ She thought before she heard the low rumble. With a panicked curiosity, she watched as he looked down at her now red-covered hand still in his possession and licked some of the blood off.

"Carlton!"

In disgust and surprise, her immediate reaction was to pull her hand from his grasp. It didn't work. His vice-like grip kept her stationary and his nails were starting to dig in her skin.

"Let me go, Carlton."

He growled again and pulled her closer.

"Didn't I say let me go?" She stressed every word and then slapped him as hard as she could. No man would man-handle her, not even her partner.

"_That should knock some sense into him."_

She smirked. His face was turned away because of the momentum. But that smirk quickly fell when he turned back toward her. He was snarling with teeth bared and eyes blazing with vicious intent. Almost as if they were glowing with some strange yellow light.

She gasped at the sight and took a step away with hands raised in protection. "Carlton calm down."

He stalked toward her. She could hear someone hurrying to her and she looked over to see Buzz make his way to stand in front of her, his face serious for once.

"I don't know what is wrong with him." She squeaked out.

* * *

><p>Rubbing his left hand down his face, he paused to recollect himself and stop the minor stinging on his cheek. For a moment, he had forgotten who he was, but frankly that hurt.<p>

All he was doing was cleaning and she made him drop his meal. He would've shared. He knew she loved cats.

Now, a large male _("McNab,"_ a tiny voice said) stood between him and her.

He looked to the sky. Reds and oranges were starting to stretch and intermix with the blue. Time was running out. He clenched his teeth at the thought of someone else getting to his prey. He quickly gazed over the whole group around him. His eyes stopped at her.

"O…Ha…ra." He rubbed his throat. It was getting difficult to speak.

He saw her peek out from behind the man. He stretched his right hand to her. It was still covered in red and his fingertips were tingling. He was losing the fight.

"See Spen…cer."

He saw her hesitate. With her around, Spencer would have a chance.

He pointed to himself with his left hand.

"Be…for I lose…"

After a long moment, the woman took a step forward.

* * *

><p>An arm blocked her way.<p>

"Juliet, don't go with him."

She looked up at Buzz. His eyes were still trained on Carlton with a rarely-seen seriousness. "There's no telling what he will do."

"But the prospect… and there are no more options." She moved his arm out of the way. "Just follow us. He shouldn't be able to move very fast with me. If anything happens, you and the Chief can jump in."

She headed back toward her dishevel partner. and eased her already ruined hand out to his. He grabbed it and slowly pulled her to him.

She looked up at him, wondering exactly how they were supposed to get to Shawn's location.

His shaded eyes refused to meet hers.

Then a quick sharp pain traveled through the back of her neck before black clouded her vision.

* * *

><p>"Detective O'Hara!" He yelled out, running toward his superior officer and his cradled, unconscious hostage. He didn't really know what was going on, but his need to protect a friend overrode his instincts to stay away from the deranged Head Detective.<p>

And as he covered the ground between the two, his mind quickly calculated the best action.

"_Punch him in the jaw to disorient. Then subdue in a headlock until senses are gained or loss of consciousness."_

Even if Detective Lassiter were to resist or counteract, rationale pointed to him (a much bulker and taller man) winning the fight between the slightly shorter and thinner man.

"_So I have the advantage."_ He quickly thought.

Everything slowed as he focused. His arms rose protecting his head, and his right fist pushed out aiming his punch true, just like during his many days training at the local boxing ring.

He made contact …or thought he had and his eyes widened in shock. The detective had caught his punch without a sign of pain on his blank face. He knew he had thrown enough force for it to not have been stopped so easily and it seemed the detective knew as well. There was something weird in his superior's eyes. He immediately saw a sign of amusement on top of the different layers.

"What in the… world?" He managed to mumble before a hand wrapped tightly around his throat and he was lifted off the ground.

He heard his name being called out through the slow haze forming from the lack of air. Suddenly rays of peach filled his vision as he was thrown back. He tumbled painfully on the pavement.

"Buzz!"

"Officer McNab! Are you okay!?"

Both Chief Vick and Gus asked frantically when they got to him. Immediately noticing the gun in Chief Vick's hand and her out of breath state, he sat up slowly grimacing a little at the pain in his arm and the soreness of his throat.

"_That landing is going to bruise."_ He thought as he looked back at where he came from. The head and junior detectives were nowhere to be seen.

He hit the cement with muted frustration at his failure.

They didn't have any leads to where the Leo character was and now he let the only person, who had some clue to where Shawn was, slip between his fingers and take a hostage with him.

"_Look on the bright side; at least it didn't turn out as bad as it could've been. He could've crushed you with his amazing strength."_

He tried to stand, but the Chief ordered him to stay where he was as she pulled out her cell phone. Gus kneeled beside him checking his slightly bleeding left arm for broken bones.

And now that he had time to clear his head, questions plagued him and he allowed for one to escape his mouth, which caused the two people around him to pause.

"Detective Lassiter doesn't have green eyes, right?"

**AN: Mmmm… Lassie should have never eaten that. It causes 'new' problems to appear.**


	25. Ch24 Loving Pineapple Wishes

**Chapter 24 – Loving Pineapple Wishes**

He sighed and looked back at the door. He wanted his special company to come back. They provided him with mucho information that Leo failed to mention. And on top of venting their worries and frustrations, they also provided lunch… or was it dinner?

He leaned back onto the mattress, looking up at the ceiling.

From their hurried exit, he assumed they weren't supposed to be in here with him, chatting it up.

He turned his eyes to the cloth-covered window.

But that had been hours ago and now the sunlight was dipping dangerously low. There hadn't been a single sign of his rescuers finding him. In fact, he hadn't heard any noise beyond the locked door. Bear's stomping footsteps always vibrated through the house, but now it was strangely absence. He hoped they hadn't abandoned the place, leaving him to shrivel up and die in here.

Standing up, he made his way over to the door, or as far as he could go. Just maybe he could try a little harder at getting out.

His eyes swept the room, looking for anything he could use to escape. Unlike the other five times, this sweep was slow and even stopping at every object and crack…

A loud bang resounded making the walls shake. He jumped, failing to stop the small cry that escaped his mouth. He looked back at the door, anxiously wondering what kind of news that noise would bring.

And for a moment immense quiet answered his questioning mind.

Then the doorknob jiggled and he could hear someone fumble with the locks. He backed away as the door slid silently open and…

Someone he was glad to see stepped in.

"Jules!" He exclaimed running to her _like a slow motion movie scene_.

He wanted to hug her and kiss her and tell her everything he learned. It had only been a day, since he was locked in this room. But without someone he knew around, it felt more like months. Now there was a familiar face. He was so happ-

Then he fell flat on his face because he forgot about the metal chain attached to his leg.

"Shawn, are you all right?" Jules asked running to his aid.

"Yup." He smiled as she helped him up. It was goofy and he knew it.

"We have to get you out of here." She said in a rush pulling a handcuff key out of the gold bracelet she had on. She caught his confused expression. "I always keep a spare on me. You just never know."

He nodded his head as he watched her throw the cuffs away from them and start working on the chain. Lucky for him, they used another set of handcuffs to attach his ankle to the metal chain.

"So how did you find me?" He asked rubbing his ankle once he was released.

They both stood up.

"Carlton." Jules said looking at him. "He's in the living room watching out for Leo and his group."

"_Okay so psycho Lassie isn't here." _He thought studying her body language. "Where's the cavalry?"

"We kinda left them back at your apartment." She said a little sheepish. "But I sent a text to Gus to let them know where we are. They should be here in a minute."

He looked at her strangely.

"Don't give me that look. I didn't have a choice. Carlton was acting weird and he knocked me out."

"Acting weird?" Panicking, he grasped her hand. "He didn't hurt you."

She shook her head. "No, I'm okay. He's acting normal now, but I know he's not alright. I startled him when I woke up and he fell off the roof of a house."

"What? How did he get on the roof?"

"Actually we both were. He-"

A loud bang sounded, making both their heads jerk toward the door.

"Carlton." He heard Jules breathe before she took off out the door. He followed closed behind.

And they both stopped at the hallway entrance to see a very bad situation stirring.

**AN: I know it's very short. I think it's the shortest chapter in this story. But just think of this as another calm before the storm. A major huge storm that will flood the house and knock down trees and stuff.**

***twiddles thumbs* So... Just keep checking in... After Friday ends...**


	26. Ch25 Freedom is What You Make it

**AN: I felt bad for leaving such a short chapter yesterday and this is a special day for me… Soooo… Here's the next chapter.**

**Chapter 25 – Freedom is What You Make it**

"_I've been wondering how I was able to get around during those blackouts without driving."_

He had been thoroughly amazed at what he could do.

The feel of the wind had cleared his head of those disturbing thoughts. Even in the midst of tracking and following the scent that had been driving him crazy for the past few days, he didn't feel anything, but pure freedom. He actually let a smile grace his lips. No one saw it of course, including his cradled unconscious party.

He paused on the roof of a house, miles away from Spencer's apartment. The scent had strengthened considerably. He looked around. The neighborhood was nice and had houses that he knew if he wanted one, he would have to take up two jobs to maintain it.

"_Like I would really want one."_ He huffed as he took note that the street below was clear of people and cars._ "It's a good time as any to wake her up."_

He gently set his partner down and crouched down next to her. He made sure to keep a hand around her waist.

"_It wouldn't do any good for her to slide and fall off. __And knowing her, since I'm the one that knocked her out, she's going to come out of it fighting."_ He thought. "O'Hara." He said softly and shook her shoulder.

He was actually surprise she didn't wake up while he was running through Santa Barbara to get here.

"O'Hara!" He said a bit more forceful and shook her more fervently. She moved a little before becoming still again. _"I know I didn't hit her that hard."_ He thought before yelling. "Juliet!"

Her eyes fluttered a bit and then they jerked open when they met his.

A fist made contact with his jaw and stars glittered in his vision. Dazed, he felt his left foot slip, and then the world spun as he tumbled down and slid off into dead air.

"Carlton?!"

Moaning, he looked up from his position in the bushes. O'Hara's head appeared from the top of the house.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

He rolled out the bushes, grunting the whole way.

"I'm good, O'Hara." Standing up, he tried to stretch his back in place. It kind of worked. "I had it coming anyhow." He mumbled before yelling up to his partner. "You're going to have to jump down."

O'Hara's eyes went wide.

"I'll catch you." He stretched out his arms. "Come on. _I just hope my back will be able to handle it._"

O'Hara shook her head. "I'm not jumping off a roof. What if I break my legs or something?"

"Look, I fell off and I'm still walking." She still didn't move. "Juliet, trust me. I'll catch you and you won't-"

She jumped and he fumbled to square himself up as she collapsed in his outstretched arms. He clenched his teeth when he felt and heard the minor pop in his back.

O'Hara stood up from his arms.

Glaring at the ground, he stayed in, what he would've called the 'proposal position.'

"_I guess it couldn't handle it."_ He never felt his age so much as right now and his partner wasn't making the situation any better.

She was snickering. "I'm sorry, Carlton. I thought you were ready."

"This is not funny." He grumbled.

"Okay." She said trying to compose herself. "Let me help." She reached for him.

"No, no. no. It's okay." He inched away.

"Oh, come on. I know what to do."

He continued to inch away.

She pounced on him and did a quick jab to his back, causing a similar pop and a sharp pain. But afterward it felt fine and he stood up, looking at her in shock.

"See." She gave one of her signature smiles. "Now what were we doing on the roof in the first place?"

"I was looking." Ignoring the look she gave him, he walked out from beside the house. She followed.

He knew she wanted the 'how' in that answer.

But how could he explain that something pushed away those disturbing feelings with some kind of weird high and then guided his movements here with a showing of sheer superhuman strength and agility.

"_I freaking threw McNab across the parking lot."_

The notion hadn't freaked him before. Actually he had felt ecstatic, but now with that freedom high slowly floating away along with whatever was steering him, he felt both a little anxious and ticked off. Ticked off at Leo for starting this and anxious for not knowing exactly what Leo had started.

He shivered at the thought of seeing his twin covered in blood reaching for him with demonic eyes.

A tap on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor and he glanced down at O'Hara questioning gaze before looking back at the street.

"Their hideout is the gray brick one story across the street and about two houses to the left." He continued trying to maintain his sense of authority and hoping it didn't show his panic or subdued anger. "O'Hara, you will need to find Spencer and get him out. I can't do that. I'll keep Leo and his group away from you as you make your escape." He glanced back. "You got it."

She nodded her head without a word.

"And if you have to use your gun, use it only to neutralize. No lethal shots."

She nodded again.

"Okay let's go."

"Wait we're not just going to waltz through the front door, are we?"

"Yes we are." He said a little more curtly then he wanted to as he stepped out from the side of the house, feeling his anger control slip a bit. _"If Leo wants me, then-"_

"Wait."

He paused, annoyed. "What, O'Hara?"

"What street is this? I have to message the others."

He had forgotten about calling back up and he mentally slapped himself. "The house is 4607 Laguna Drive."

Once he saw she was done, he started his trek across the darkening street. She followed closely behind. Her gun was drawn. He reached for his, but then remembered it was in lockup at the station. He took a moment to mentally shed a tear for his missing companion.

Crouched low, they straddled the door frame while he checked the doorknob. It was locked. He stood up and backed away from the door.

"Are you sure this is where Shawn is?"

He paused, looking at her. "I'm a hundred percent." He looked back at the door and muttered, "The freaking pineapples are everywhere."

"Pineapples?"

"I'll tell you later."

He then stepped forward and kicked the door. The door frame snapped in and he rushed across the threshold before O'Hara.

The family room was empty. Flipping the lights on, he scanned the room. There was a couch with a scrunched up newspaper, a portable TV seating on an end table, and a couple of loose papers on the floor. Just items for temporary living and to keep boredom away, nothing to suggest that the occupants really stayed there full time.

Speaking of occupants, they were surprisingly absence, making him wonder if this was the right house. _"I hope this wasn't a fake trail."_

But he could smell the sugary sweet scent. It was all over and highly concentrated toward the back of the house. And it was starting to affect him again; he had to physically stop himself from stalking down the hallway by grabbing the wall.

It was a subtle gesture, or he thought it was, until he saw the fleeting concern in O'Hara's eyes.

He let go of the wall and pointed down the hallway. "He's down there. I'll stay and watch your back."

She seemed to understand the importance of the situation and left the subject alone.

He watched her disappear down and around the corner. Once he knew she was gone, he leaned against the wall, placing a hand to his face in exhaustion.

"_You're better than this. You can beat it. Just force it away._

_It didn't help back at the apartment, Carlton. You barely kept yourself from biting into a certain someone and even then you had to take drastic steps to prevent them from becoming a running target. …Oh, and don't forget, you ran away._

_Shut up. It worked and I didn't run. I vacated the premises due to hostile… Wait why am I arguing with myself?"_

Trying to re-center his thoughts, he looked back toward the hallway. A black cowboy hat hung from the wall.

"_Once O'Hara gets here with Spencer, we will walk out this house, peacefully. The others will be stationed outside and Leo and his group will be arrested. I will not growl at Spencer for intruding yesterday. I will not rip him to shreds when I see him. I will spatter his blood all over this room. I will tear his little psychic head off and ask him did he see __**that**__ coming. I will…_

_I will…Crap, I need to leave."_

Swallowing the rising panic, he pushed off the wall.

"_I'll go look outside for just a moment."_

He turned toward the door and a person, with a light blue shirt and dark jeans, stood at its entrance.

"You're not thinking of leaving. Are you?"

"Leo." He growled.

"I just got here and it looks like you did, too." Leo glanced at the door. "But you didn't have to break the door. The key was hanging right here." Leo pulled out a medium-sized ring of keys hanging outside on the door frame. "I'm going to have to pay for that." He heard Leo mutter as the man stepped through the broken door frame and pushed the door close. It slammed shut. "You know the key to your psychic's restraints are on this ring too. Why don't you go get him, detective?"

He clenched his teeth looking at Leo.

"He's right back there, the last door to the left. Here."

He caught the ring of keys.

"It'll be one happy reunion."

"I'm not doing anything you say." He spat. "I'm through playing your little game."

Leo looked impassive.

"In a few minutes, the police will have this place surrounded and you and your buddies will be carted off."

"Is that so? Then this is the perfect opportunity to off your psychic friend. I know you badly wanted him out of your life." Leo started a slow walk toward him. Something devilish gleamed in his eyes. "You can make him disappear and no one would blame you. All you have to do is give in to what you're feeling." Leo paused a few feet from him.

"I told you. I'm not doing-"

"Think about it as relieving yourself of that baggage I was talking about before." Leo eyes darted behind him. "And speaking of baggage, you've brought an extra."

His eyes widened as he turned to look back.

"O'Hara, Spencer, run out the back!"

**AN: Lassie is getting a bit unstable in his thoughts. I wonder why…**

**And for the next update I'm bouncing between keeping with my usual Sunday update or updating Monday. If I happen to get enough pestering people, I'll update Sunday. Wednesday update will be usual despite what happens.**

**And as an fyi: Lassie was blocking me from writing Juliet's POV during that roof part. So if she seemed like she easily rubbed off getting knocked out by her partner, blame Lassie. He hogs the attention and access to Juliet's thoughts aren't included because of it.**


	27. Ch26 A Little Sliver of the Inner Wilds

**AN: Thanks to those that pestered me in getting this chapter out. It would've been out earlier, but I had family visiting and was having some editing trouble with this. So here it is.**

**Chapter 26 – A Little Sliver of the Inner Wilds **

"What about Lassie?!" He exclaimed after Jules hurried him into the kitchen, where the back door was. "We can't leave him with that dude."

He turned to go back and she again pushed him toward the back door.

"Jules." He pleaded. Her face was torn and her right hand tightened around her gun that was aimed at the floor. He could see that following the order was hurting her.

"Shawn, your safety is priority. Carlton will be okay and you being there will make it worst. Now let's go." She opened the door and pushed him outside.

Just as he stumbled out, Jules cried out from behind him and he turned to see an empty space where she once was.

"Jules!"

Running back in, he saw Bear holding her with a huge hand covering her mouth.

"_Where in the hell did he come from?"_ He thought before yelling for Bear to "Let her go."

The huge man smiled at him.

His eyes then spotted Jules' gun lying useless on the floor a few feet from him. He moved to grab it, but a sharp object at his neck made him freeze.

The knife pulled up making him stand. He caught a glimpse of dark green and black: familiar clothes.

"Riley, you don't have to do this." He whispered.

"Shut up, Shawn. You don't know what they did to my family." The woman responded behind him.

"I do. I'm psychic, remember. I can hear the past and it's telling me that Lassie had nothing to do with what happened. What happened to your mom was an accident."

He could feel the knife loosen for a second before maintaining its pressure on his neck.

"No, Shawn. Dad knows what happened. He was left there, holding her dead body." The pressure at his neck built with her anger. "Your **Lassie** isn't entirely innocent. He killed my friend three days ago. All he was doing was protecting his brother. He didn't deserve dying like that."

He winced when it finally cut the skin.

"You know you were much nicer earlier on." He mumbled.

The knife dug in some more, shutting his voice off. She held it for a minute and then eased the knife a little off his neck. He could feel the stinging from the cut and a bit of wetness sliding down.

"_Hopefully someone has another plan because this one went straight into the crap shoot."_

He looked at Jules. Her wide eyes stared back and as they were herded back into the living room, he glanced at Lassie's predicament. Lassie wasn't fairing any better. He could see the frustration in the detective's blue eyes and a wide smile on Leo's face.

"_He has everyone where he wants them. Just prefect."_

His mind quickly filtered through scenario after scenario, trying to find the best way to get out without harm falling to anyone.

None seemed feasible.

* * *

><p>"You know I didn't expect you to bring your pet partner here. How foolish." Leo sneered. "It's going to be the warehouse all over again, but this time we have alert witnesses."<p>

His frown deepened when he saw O'Hara and Spencer being escorted back into the area by Leo's buddies.

"And everything will be laid on the table." Leo said walking past him heading toward O'Hara.

"Let them go." He growled, reaching to pull the older man back. The sweet smell seemed to intensify and he covered his nose. Forcing himself back, he tried to ease the surge of new feelings.

"What's wrong, Lassiter?"

He caught Leo's smiling face.

"Don't you like his scent?" Leo sneered pointing a lazy finger at Spencer.

Dropping his hand, he hid his surprise with a glare.

"It's one of those perks of being in the same area as your target."

"_Target?"_

%%%

Excitement shivered down his spine at seeing live prey. He pounced quickly disarming and rendering it helpless on the floor under him. His quarry was scared and he loved it. He wanted to savor it, but he could hear others outside the door and it was squirming trying to get away. He smiled at it before bending down to sink his teeth through the thin covering and into flesh. Liquid flowed and he let go relishing the taste…

%%%

He shook his head of the vivid memory to focus back.

"Having a meal get away the first time is a no-no. The influence eats away at you until you give in. That's why that girl that you saved was going to die anyway."

"The influence?" His glare strengthened. "So you did drug me with something. You need to fix this."

Leo shook his head with that smile still on his face. "I can't fix what is already there, but I can ease it and help you accept it." Leo then pointed to Spencer. "There's your target. Help yourself."

He glanced at Spencer. He could see the psychic's eyes were filled with that annoyingly, stubborn determination he usually had. But he also could pick up on Spencer's deep hidden fear. It seemed to egg on whatever he was trying to push back, the same thing that wanted to hunt earlier.

"_Where is that high when I needed? Or better yet something I can use to free them."_

His eyes quickly scanned the room in front of him before locking on a small sliver of red as it slid down and dropped to the carpet.

He took a small reluctant step forward, and then another.

Spencer's mouth started moving. Pleading his name? The words never really quite registered. But he forced himself to stop.

Out the corner of his eye, he saw Leo nod and the woman pushed his prey (Spencer he reminded himself) right at him. His right hand instinctually wrapped a hand around Spencer's neck. The smell was overpowering and he couldn't help, but breathe in deeply. The lines were blurring and his body tingled with a slight wakefulness.

He looked down at his prey. Their eyes locked.

For a moment, there was no one around, just him and Spencer.

Him and his prey.

He rubbed his tongue on sharpened teeth.

* * *

><p>"<em>He's going to eat me."<em>

He struggled with the hand around his neck. It was like trying to break metal. He wished he still had that leather strap.

Staring into glazed, light blue, he pleaded. "Lassie, buddy. You don't want to do this. I don't know what they did to you, but you have to snap out of it."

There was no response.

* * *

><p>He was lost in the thoughts and sensations. Everything felt so detached.<p>

Leo's warped smile. O'Hara's shocked eyes. Bear's shadowed figure. That woman's unforgiving movements.

He looked down at Spencer. He could at least make out that Spencer was scared. Very scared.

His fingers twitched around the man's throat.

One swift move and blood would drench the floor like a waterfall. It was too easy and he was disappointed.

Extremely disappointed.

He wanted a chase. They were always warmer when they run and tasted so much better.

"_He's not… run. No one is-"_

_Anger_

"_-Not the time."_

_Frustrated growl._

"_Go-"_

…

"_Go!"_

His jaw tightened at the weird, jumbled thoughts as the feelings started to recede in a huff.

"You're too weak." He felt himself say as his eyes look up in annoyance to stare at the older man. "Leo."

Leo's eyebrow rose.

His hand slowly (almost reluctantly) unfurled from around Spencer's throat.

"He's not worth it." Pushing a surprised Spencer behind him, he looked over at Bear. "Just like that boy who tried to finish someone else's fight."

Bear's attention turned fully toward him. That previous smile was gone. "What did you say about my brother?"

"Bear." Leo's warning went ignored.

"You know exactly what I said. He was worth…less."

Throwing his hostage to the side, Bear roared and charged at him.

%%%

Everything floated closer together; a little less detached, and he realized he unintentionally provoked a 300 pound man into charging at him. He panicked inside.

%%%

He watched with a surprising calm as the huge man rushed him. He perceived Bear's movements as slow and he dodged the fist flying at his face. He dodged the left fist heading to his stomach and then the right fist aimed at his jaw. It strangely felt like a dance he had already performed before and Bear confirmed his déjà vu by yelling for him to stop toying with him like last time. He complied with a quick punch to Bear's cheek after dodging another punch. Something must've clicked in Bear's head at that moment because he stopped randomly punching and jumped back, rubbing his cheek with a grimace.

%%%

He glanced down at his readied fist in hidden shock.

"_It's happening again."_ He noted to himself. But this wasn't the gentle push in the right direction like before, it was physically taking the steering wheel.

And he didn't like it.

"I'll show you." Bear spat reaching into his pocket.

"Don't you dare, fool." He heard Leo yell. "That is only for emergencies."

"My brother needs to be avenged." Then Bear pulled out a silver gun.

%%%

Seeing the threat, everything flowed together and he felt himself covered the distance between him and Bear within seconds. He sent a hard punch at Bear's temple just as he felt something graze his left shoulder sending a sharp sting that quickly dissipated.

Bear hit the wall behind him and collapsed to the floor unconscious. The gun tumbled out of his hand and slid under a chair. His breath came out heavy and he softly kicked Bear's foot to ensure he was knocked out.

Full control was given back as it seemed satisfied with the results. Hiding his confusion and frustration, he looked around to get his bearings back.

Spencer was still standing where he had left him, that woman was to his right fidgeting with anger, and Leo was to his left holding O'Hara in a tight embrace. Turning fully to look at Leo, he growled out a warning. "Let her go." He took a couple of menacing steps toward them.

"Did I ever tell you I like fighters?" Leo's voice floated out, making him pause. "They make for an excellent hunt and the taste…mmm…" Leo twirled a finger in her hair. "I wonder. Did you like the feeling of that girl's blood between your fingers?"

He gritted his teeth.

"…Or the taste of it in your mouth? It looked like you did."

"Shut up." He growled.

Leo caressed her face. He caught sight of his partner's quick confusion before it settled into her 'brave' face.

"I know you got so caught up in the rush," Leo trailed a finger gently down to her neck, "That you almost tore your pretty partner's throat out."

He glared at Leo, trying to avoid his partner's accusing eyes.

"And from the look on your partner's face, you never told her what happened. How close she was to dying by your hands." Leo barked out a laugh.

His eyes narrowed. Leo was the caused for all of this and now he was laughing at the chaos he had placed in his life. Everything was balanced before Leo showed up.

"_Balanced…? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?" _Frustrated by the weird thought, his hands balled into fists. He badly wanted to walk over and wipe that smug look off the older man's face, but O'Hara's safety was what kept him back. His mind was turning, trying to find a way to get Leo to release her unharmed.

"You know." Leo said frankly, diverting all of his attention back to the older man. "I was going to take your ex-wife hostage instead of the psychic there. It would've been a lot sweeter, if she was here and still felt the same way as you do now. But alas, the years apart have been so kind to her. She's already found someone else to put a ring on her finger."

He clenched his teeth trying to keep from jumping on the man for bringing this up.

He knew Victoria had a boyfriend, probably someone she found during their long separation. It was a very sore spot that he felt would never heal. All he could do was patch it with things that don't fit, cement it with nonexistent tears, cover it with a blanket, and hope it was stable enough to walk on.

But, he should've known it was never stable to begin with because he would've noticed the obvious trap he was falling into, the one set off by the stinging wave of despair along with the immense burning fire of his anger and frustration.

The slow breeze of cluttered thoughts that twirled in his head swiftly jumped up to hurricane level. They were disturbing and horrific in some cases, but he accepted it without much of a fight.

Because deep down, he wanted to…

But he couldn't…or could he?

His right hand flexed with indecision and a strange growl escaped his lips.

Spencer yelled something out to his left. He ignored it.

His glaring eyes were set on Leo and Leo alone.

Then suddenly, the room began to blur with ever increasing brightness. His head started to hurt as he picked up the rhythmic thumps of hearts beating around the room and individual smells, along with their emotion. His body felt tingly and his eyes started to burned.

He grasped his head in confusion at the abrupt change in his senses.

It felt strange and overwhelming…

"_What's going on?" _He asked himself as he hunched over slightly, trying to block out the sudden bright lights.

Someone yelled out and he heard footsteps running across the carpeted floor behind him.

He quickly turned, and as something hard dug into his stomach, his right hand thrust out sinking into something soft and wet. The attacker crumpled to the floor, but not before pushing the metal in as far as it would go. Stinging pain flared outward and he stumbled back looking down at the foreign object in a weird haze of cotton balls and panic.

He grasped the handle, intent on pulling it out, but a hand stopped him.

"Carlton, don't."

Feeling largely disconnected, his gaze slid around the room before slowly wandering to see Leo kneeling over the woman's body.

"_She attacked me."_ He thought. _"She tried to kill me."_

His anger rose. He felt the low rumble in his throat and he bared his teeth.

Leo looked up. He could see the dread in his eyes as he stood in front of the woman on the ground.

"You will not hurt her." Leo demanded, seemingly composed. He vaguely noted Leo's left hand in his pocket.

His eyes narrowed. _"Like hell I will." _

Someone grabbed his arm to pull him away from Leo and the woman.

"_I'm going to _kill_ both of you."_

He pulled forward dragging the person a short distance with him.

He wanted them to pay.

He couldn't remember why, but he wanted them to pay.

He wanted to take his claws and rip away their limbs and spill their intestines.

He wanted to paint the walls red with blood.

He wanted to be free.

The force abruptly gave way and he lunged forward, claws fully extended.

Ignoring the hands reaching to pull him back.

Ignoring the biting of the metal in his gut.

Ignoring the voices telling him to stop.

But he couldn't ignore the loud pop of a gun from his left or the sound of a bullet cutting into skin.

Wide eyed, he stopped. Deep red flowered from the center of his chest. Looking past the sudden flurry of movement and noise, he saw Bear smirking with a dark pistol in hand.

He staggered a little forward as frantic hands again latched onto him. His mind couldn't grasp what was going on. It was a swirling machine of pain, color, jumbled thoughts and feelings.

But he couldn't overlook the harsh beating of his heart, or the blackness that was gradually consuming his world, or the slow numbness of everything around him.

And as awareness slipped, he caught sight of Leo's submissive form among the mass of black.

"You bastard." He managed to mutter, coughing up red.

His legs finally collapsed from underneath him and he vaguely noticed the floor rushing up to meet his face as darkness once again claimed him.

**AN: I know you're possibly confused. Lassie's head is a bit (a lot) jumbled, making this chapter jumbled.**

**FYI: This scene (Leo's house) was intended to be the last chapter, but this is where my mind took a detour and said no. And plus, I couldn't leave all those loose ends. So continuing on… **

**Here is a little preview of the next chapter: **

This was something every officer dreaded. To get that call. But she, on the other hand, was right there.

Right There.

Riding the ambulance. Trying to keep the bright color from leaving.

"_It's all my fault. I should've known better. I should have known better…"_

Invisible tears trailed down her vacant face as she continued to stare at the carpeted floor. Shawn shifted uneasy next to her.

"_Is there no way to turn back time?"_

Someone in the room wailed at hearing the news their son wasn't going to make it. She glanced up at the family before looking away at the many dark uniforms standing around.

Her stinging eyes narrowed with new resolve.

"_No. He will make it. He has to."_


	28. Ch27 Losing Blue

**Chapter 27 – Losing Blue**

"_Nothing makes sense right now."_

She paced the waiting area of the hospital.

The ride on the ambulance was nothing short of nerve racking.

She glanced at her now clean hands that were just covered in her partner's blood a moment ago.

The paramedics had felt it crucial that she maintain the pressure on the small chest wound left by the bullet's trail while they worked on stabilizing the knife in his stomach. And so entered her free ride to the hospital and her soon release, once the emergency staff took over. The image of Carlton's pale, lifeless face hugged her mind and wouldn't let go. Wrapping her arms around herself, she continued to pace.

She tried to think of something else; something happy…something other than that Riley woman sinking a knife into her partner or Bear hitting the nail on the coffin with the pull of the trigger _from her gun_.

_Her gun…_

She pushed the thought away.

Speaking of Riley, minutes after she was forced to wait, she had seen the woman wheeled into the ER followed by a small escort of cops. She paused in her pacing to look at the twin doors where both of them disappeared.

"Jules!"

She looked over at the entrance to see Shawn running toward her. Gus, Chief Vick, and a few officers soon followed in.

"Any news?" Shawn asked.

She shook her head, solemnly. The Chief nodded and walk away heading to the reception desk.

"How are you holding up?"

She again shook her head. Shawn wrapped a comforting arm around her and guided her to an empty couch. Gus followed quietly.

She glanced at the other people in area. They were all waiting for some sign that their love ones would pull through. Although Carlton held no blood relation to her, through the years together, he now felt just like one of her brothers.

She put her head in her hands.

He always watched her back and protected her in his own weird way. He was never one to open up, but the few special times he did, it was …nice.

And frankly, she could've done more to prevent this from happening.

"_I could've done more."_ She repeated.

Her mind whirled around the thought of what could've been done, what could've happened, what could've been different to result in a good ending; an ending where the bad guys were caught and they walk out unscathed with Shawn in tow doing his usual hyperactive routine and Carlton yelling at him to stop acting like a child.

It continued to spin and turn and twist…until finally she forced everything away and her mind went blank.

She sat back and stared at the floor.

Shawn shifted beside her.

Two hours passed by ever so slowly before a doctor, dressed in dark green scrubs and a lab coat, appeared requesting the family of Carlton Lassiter.

She jumped up hurrying to meet the doctor. The Chief beat her and she followed her and the doctor into a side office. Shawn and Gus soon entered after her and Gus closed the door softly behind him.

The doctor glanced at everyone. "This is for immediate family."

"We are his immediate family." The Chief spoke out.

The doctor gave a once over look around room before giving a slight shrug and introducing himself as Dr. Brian Sayre, chief surgeon.

"Mr. Lassiter's condition was severe." Dr. Sayre started then glanced down at the clipboard in his hand before looking back up to continue. "We had to perform emergency surgery to stitch the large laceration through his small intestines, along with assessing and correcting the damage done by the gunshot. The bullet cracked a rib, scratched the aorta, and settle by the collar bone."

She watched as the doctor pointed to the trail of bullet through the body.

"He was stabilized, the wounds were cleaned, and the bullet was removed." Dr. Sayre then paused.

"So he's alright?" She asked with hope in her voice, which quickly died at the brief downtrodden look that passed through the man's professional mask.

"Due to unknown complications, he flat lined during the final stages of surgery. We tried to bring him back… I'm sorry to say Mr. Lassiter passed away at 10:37 pm."

Numbness took over at the news.

"_It can't be."_

She vaguely felt a hand grab her shoulder in comfort. She knew it was Shawn and she shrugged it off.

"For someone to have survived that long with injuries such as his, it was a miracle." Dr. Sayre added before providing details on the amount of blood lost, shock, and other causes for her partner to flat line. Unfocused and not wanting to listen anymore, she exited the room and walked past the bustle of the waiting room to the outside. A cool breeze blew by and she wrapped her arms around herself. Fortunately, Shawn had enough tact to not follow her.

She found a seat on the gray stone walls around the front driveway. The bushes behind her bristled with the wind and her hands tightened. Her blank, blue eyes stared out at the many cars traveling the lit highway in front of her. Their lights flashing various shades of patterned whites and reds.

She couldn't put to words how she felt.

But she knew her mind wouldn't accept the fact that her big brother, her protector, her friend, one of the strongest people in her life with his grumpy nature, and his love of guns, and his addiction to coffee, and his high value of authority and titles, and his all-around strange ways, was gone.

Just gone.

"_Head Detective Carlton Lassiter died." _

And she couldn't even shed one tear.

**AN: (0_0) Oh crap. A major character accidently died. Where do I go from here? **

**Um… Let me think… **

**killers caught = check, **

**group saved = check, **

**But Lassie is dead! ** **What do I do now? *panics*** **I'm the author so I should be able to put something together… Just give me some time. *runs off.***


	29. Ch28 Just Another Day

**AN: Ok I know I've been gone. I had to get my thoughts back together. And because I killed off a major character (which happened to be the MAIN character), I have posted a special chapter as a peace offering. And I mean **_**special**_**. **

**And to everyone: Lassie doesn't like it when he is killed off from his own story. So Yea... **

**Note to self: Hide guns in better places.**

**Chapter 28 – Just Another Day**

Sunlight streamed through blinded windows to hit his face. He groaned and turned over feeling the arms of sleep still holding onto him. He snuggled deeper into the covers…

Then he realized he was supposed to be at work.

He hopped up from his bed shaking away the bout of lightheadedness, and hurried to the bathroom to get ready. He exited minutes later. Grabbing his usual attire, he rushed through dressing himself.

A sudden noise in the next room made him pause in buttoning his shirt. He looked up training his ears. A loud hum of a machine met his ears. Scowling at the thought of someone in his house, he quickly finished buttoning and grabbed one of his hidden guns from behind the TV.

Gun drawn, he cautiously left his bedroom and ventured down the short hallway to the den. Confusion ran briefly across his face at the sight before dropping into annoyance.

Pencils and pens littered his coffee table along with an electric pencil sharpener, and pieces of balled up paper lay forgotten on the floor. On the couch sat a young teenage girl with long, flowing black hair and a drawing pad on her jean-clad lap. She looked up at him with dark colored eyes and smiled.

He lowered his gun locking the safety and placing it in the small of his back.

"What are you doing in my house? I almost blew your head off."

She giggled and started back writing on the paper. "I felt like being here, so here I am." Her voice was airy.

"Felt like being here? You know you broke into an officer's house. That's a crime punishable by jail time."

"Yup, I know, Carlton." She continued to scribble.

"Wait a minute." He said raising a finger. _"I've never met this girl and she calls me by my first name_. _Maybe she was on one of those school visits or a part of a case."_ With irritation at the revelation, he pointed that finger at the unknown girl. "You will respect me, little girl. It's Mr. Lassiter or Detective. Do not call me by my first name. Now, who are you and where are your parents?" He folded his arms.

She looked up at him strangely. "Mr. Lassiter? I've never called you that, **Carlton**." She dragged out the pronunciation of his name. He looked on with a deepened frown. "And I'm sad you forgot about me. We used to be bestest buds. Friends til the end."

"_I don't have friends."_ He thought grudgingly.

She sniffed sadly.

He could see tears swell in her eyes and he motioned with his hands for her to calm down. "There's no need for you to cry."

"I'm not crying." She whined and rubbed her eyes. "You were always the strong one. I always got in the way and I understand why you feel that way."

He felt a little awkward. Weird kids were not his thing, especially weird, crying kids that said weird stuff.

"Do you need help or something?" He took a step forward. _"Maybe she's mental. I have to get her back to her parents."_

"I'm not mental, Carlton." She yelled out. "My parents are long gone. They died in a car accident when I was little. You should know that." She glared at him through teary eyes.

"How…?" Dumbfounded, he paused to reword the question. He was not going to let some unknown kid play mind games with him. _"I get enough of that with Spencer." _He looked at the girl giving his own glare."How should I know about your parents? I've never met you."

She huffed drying her eyes. "You keep thinking that. Stop it."

"Stop what?"

Frustrated, she stood up, slamming her drawing pad on the couch, and made her way to stand in front of him. The girl stood half his height.

"Man, you've grown." He heard her muttered in wonder before placing her hands on her hips. "Stop thinking you've never met me. Stop blocking yourself. I know it's painful." Her eyes saddened and turned away. "It's not your fault." She whispered.

"What's not my-" He caught himself before he asked, rubbing a hand down his face in annoyance. He was an officer first, but he badly wanted to kick this girl out. "What do you need?" He growled.

Her expression did a complete one-eighty and she smiled up at him. "Nothing. I'm here to help you."

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the front door.

"Carlton let me go!"

He ignored her protests. _"I don't have time for this. Got to get to work."_

"Do not go to the station, Carlton. That is not the place you need to be." She said digging her shoes into the carpet. "Stay here with me. I'll help you understa-"

"Who are you to say what I can and can not do? You're a kid. Stay in a kid's place." He opened the door. "I don't need help. You do. Now get out of my house."

Yanking her arm out of his grasp, she looked up at him with frustration on her face.

"You are so difficult sometimes." She huffed. "You don't even realize what's going on and its right in front of you. You have to stay here, calm down, and relax before something bad happens."

"_I am calm and relaxed."_ He rolled his eyes and reached for the door as the girl continued her rant. _"Crazy girl."_

"I told you what you need to do. But if you're not going to listen, then I will leave and you will be on your own to figure this out and face the consequences."

Ignoring her, he pushed her out before slamming the door. An unnerving quiet settled in the house and he shook off the cold feeling.

"_Well time to finish, so I can get to work."_

He made his way back to the den. He scowled at the mess the girl made and walked over to see what she was so feverishly scribbling to find the exposed page blank. He flipped through the tablet. All of them blank. He reached down and unballed a piece of paper from the floor and it was blank too. He sighed angrily.

"_That girl was mental." _

Walking back into his bedroom, he glanced at the clock, while taking the gun from his backside and placing it in the nearest drawer. A bunch of silver pens gleamed off the top of the dresser.

"_Got to go."_

He grabbed the matching suit jacket from off the bed and hurried out the room. He grabbed his briefcase and his keys, and rushed out of the house locking everything as he went.

"_That girl is gone."_ He noted internally as he got in his car. _"Good riddance."_

Seconds later he was driving down the street turning corner after corner to get out of the neighborhood, and as he turned onto a usually busy road, he took notice of the lack of moving cars and people. There were cars neatly parked at businesses and along the side of the street, but none driving on the road.

Curious about the internal note, he glanced at the rearview mirror. Dark trees branches blocked his view and his eyebrows rose in confusion.

Suddenly a huge buck appeared in the middle of the road. Gasping, he pushed hard on the brake. It exploded into a silent red cloud drenching the windshield in blood. His car screeched to a halt.

He mentally cursed.

"_What's a deer doing in the middle of a busy city?"_

Placing the car in park, he jumped out. His heart pounded in his chest as he made his way to the front. He stared and rubbed a hand through his hair in disbelief.

Blood was splattered across the pavement and on the hood, but there was no sign of a body or a dent on the car. He looked under the car. Again there was nothing, except short tire tracks marked in red on the pavement.

"_Maybe the body rolled to the back." _He thought, even though, he knew he didn't hear anything go across the top of the car or feel anything roll underneath the tires.

He stood up and made his way to the back.

Everything was dry, except for a few droplets of blood. He shook his head and folded his arms as he turned to head back to the front of the car.

"I guess I'll be driving a bloody…" He paused looking at the hood. "…car?"

The hood was clean. He looked under again to see the pavement also clean and dry.

"What?"

He looked around at the many businesses. No one was out and no one had driven by, since he'd been there.

"What is going on?" He muttered to himself as he sat back in his car. "First, I oversleep, then that girl shows up, now an exploding and disappearing deer." He put the car in drive and pushed the gas. "I must be catching something."

Minutes later, he pulled into his designated parking spot at work. Stepping out and closing the car door, he noted some of his coworkers' cars, but again he held back his confusion at the lack of bustle from the station. No one was coming in or out.

Cautiously, he made his way up the steps and through the front doors. Everything was quiet inside and the air felt like static. He didn't really know how to describe it. He ventured in, past the reception desk, through the vacant main office area and bullpen, past the closed door to the Chief's office, and toward his desk.

A white piece of paper sat in the center of his organized desk.

"_Where is everyone?"_ He thought picking up the paper.

**Is this how you view life? You **_**need**_** a life. Add some flavor to it. Try a little citrus or, better yet, why not steal someone else's for a change.**

His eyebrows rose at the message and settled into a scowl at the mentioning of trying a citrus fruit. There's only one person who would leave something like this on his desk.

"Spencer!"

He looked up expecting to see his associates' smiling faces from their hiding places with that imbecile of a psychic at the head, but his face fell at seeing no one.

It was still eerily quiet.

Ignoring the sudden chill, he placed the note back on his desk and ventured to the back of the station, hoping that this was some kind of prank and not the end of the world.

The interrogation hallway was clear. The restrooms were clear. The offices were clear. The storage rooms were clear. He looked in the morgue. No one was there; even the dead bodies were gone.

The whole building felt empty.

His eyes wandered to the only area he hadn't checked.

"_Lock up."_

He looked at the sign before swiping his card to get in. It beeped in confirmation and the door popped open.

"There has to be someone around here." He muttered to himself as he walked in. The door locked soundly behind him.

The usual noises of the criminals were absent and it unnerved him to think that those absent hoodlums could be outside causing harm to innocent people.

Suddenly his ears picked up something heavy being dragged on the cement floor down the hallway and around the corner from him. Pulling his gun out, he hurriedly followed the sound. He glanced around the corner to see a door to the right closing with an audible click and he hurried out of his cover to follow.

He reached the cherry wood door and his eyebrows rose in confusion. 'Solitary confinement,' it read in big, black letters.

"We don't have a unit like that." He whispered in disbelief.

This police department only had facilities to hold people for a short amount of time. Anyone who had to do serious time was always transferred to a state prison or correctional facility, so something like solitary was never needed.

He rubbed his head and then tried to open the door. It was locked.

He sighed in frustration and tucked his gun back in his holster, only to pull it back out when he heard a yell. He took off in its direction back down the hallway, down a long flight of stairs, and into one of the three holding areas, also known as Cell Block B.

The area had four barred cells on each side and it was dimly lit, which was very unusual.

He cautioned his footsteps and looked in each of the cells as he ventured down.

Nothing was out of the ordinary …so far.

"_Except for the lack of lights and criminal presence…"_

Something dropped outside of the last cell on the left. It looked like a woman's arm and hand lying on the floor between the bars and he jogged over to look in. His stomach jumped at the sight and he quickly covered his mouth with his arm at the vomit that was forming.

The arm wasn't attached to a body, and blood, tissue, and pieces of bone covered every inch of the cell. The smell was sickening and he backed away gagging. He had to wonder why he didn't smell it before. The stench of the dead never stayed in one area for too long.

A shadow moved in his peripheral and he turned with gun trained.

Nothing was amiss, but he kept his gun up.

"_Someone's in here."_ He thought with eyes scanning the dimly-lit room.

Something hit the wall in the cell to his right and he turned at the sound.

Bad idea…

Within a couple of seconds, he was disarmed, his right arm was forced behind him, and he was pushed against the back wall.

He strangely felt like a criminal and that the person holding him to the wall was an officer. But he shook his head of the thought and struggled with his attacker, making it difficult for them to keep both a good grip on his arm and weigh him to the wall.

Once he felt the attacker's hands loosen, he kicked back and turned to land a punch on the person who was so busy dodging the kick they didn't see the punch coming.

The distinctly male figure stumbled back from the hit.

He smirked. "Just because you took away an officer's gun, doesn't mean they're defenseless." He stated, straightening his jacket and tie. "Now did you do this?" He asked pulling out his secondary, much smaller gun and pointing it at the recovered criminal. His attacker looked at him from the shadows with striking, gold eyes. They glittered with amusement and the slight smile shown sharp canines in the dim light.

His hands tightened around the gun nervously, but a scowl settled on his face to mask it.

"Answer me! Did you do this!?" He yelled out.

The sound of some objects hitting the floor and sliding to his feet answered him. He glanced down before picking them up, all the while keeping the gun trained. He looked at the red-dotted items in the light and he felt his anger increase. Placing the objects back on the ground, he ordered the bastard to not move as he marched over, gun still aimed.

Every step had a different memory, a different thought, and he gritted his teeth.

"That was Spencer's necklace, Guster's watch, and O'Hara's bracelet. Where are they?"

Even this close, he couldn't see any detailing features of the man, but they were looking eye to eye and saw the man's slight smile widened.

"Where are they?" He repeated with deadly fervor, grabbing the man's collar with his left hand and pulling him closer.

Suddenly, the length of his left arm started to burn and he cried out in surprise before losing his grip. The man knocked the gun from his hand and pushed him back. Stumbling a bit, he cradled his arm to see three scratches bleeding profusely through his sleeves. Looking back, the man was still smiling and now held up a blood stained hand. Long nails adore the man's fingers and he backed away in shocked. Licking his fingers, the man followed leaving the darker shadows, and he scowled at the person's identity.

"Bear." He growled, standing his ground.

The man paused in his stride and dropped the smile into a glare.

It was that lackey of Leo alright, but his overall appearance was screaming 'different' and he couldn't help, but take notice of the extra features from which he took his namesake: the extra-long nails, sharp canines, and rounded furry ears.

Pushing away the pain and shock, he took a fighting stance.

His companions were somewhere hurt or worse. He had to find them, even if it meant he had to fight this freak show hand to hand, and make him tell him where they were.

Torture wasn't totally beneath him or the idea of ripping those fake ears and teeth from his head.

As if his thoughts were spoken out loud, Bear released a loud roar before charging at him with long claws out. He quickly sidestepped allowing Bear to fly pass him. He grunted and grasped his chest when he felt more scratches on his chest.

"_He's fast. On second thought, where is my gun?" _

Scanning the floor, he spotted one in a locked cell.

"_Damn. Too far away."_

He sidestepped another charge, receiving another set of scratches on his back. He grunted staring at his attacker, blue to honey-brown, before Bear charged again. He stood his ground, barely dodging the claw to his chest.

He punched Bear in the jaw. The hit didn't have as big of an affect as before and he stood dumbfounded for a few seconds, which gave Bear the perfect opportunity to pushed him to the ground and put a heavy boot on his chest.

He clawed at the boot trying to push it off his chest and he gasped as the force on his chest grew heavy. Black edge in his vision from the lack of air, but he tried to will it back as much as he could.

"_I can't lose to him." _He clenched his teeth.

Suddenly, the pressure jerked away leaving him feeling slightly drained and gasping for air. Slowly standing up, he watched Bear, who seemed to be struggling with something around his neck.

"_What's going on?"_

His eyes focused on the tangle of black shadows wrapped around Bear's neck. His gaze slowly slid around the room to see it grow suddenly dark with flailing shadows.

"What the hell?" He asked himself, backing away from the sight.

There was only one exit and that exit was behind whatever that dark mass was. He was not about to go running toward it unless he had to. It seemed perfectly content with having Bear in its clutches and he'd be damn if he let it have him.

So he stayed clinging to the back wall hoping the thing would turn and leave. But it didn't. Instead the shadows seemed to grow close, twist, and form a figure with a hand still gripping Bear's throat.

He watched as the shadow figure threw Bear against the cell bars and smashed him against the floor. Bear stayed on his stomach groaning. The figure then grabbed Bear by one of his arms and slowly pulled it up as far as it would go.

He knew what was about to happen making it hard to look away.

But the mass just froze as if waiting for something. Glowing eyes glanced at him from the black. It seemed the figure wanted something from him because he watched in panic as branches of shadow stretched out to him across the floor. He jumped away hitting his back against the wall. He cursed as it slithered up his legs and arms, up his torso, and stop at his neck.

He tried to move, but found he couldn't. It felt ice cold and his body shivered from the dark caressing.

"_What do you want?"_ It asked. He paused in his struggle.

"What do I want?" He asked to himself, not really finding it strange that the thing just talked to him inside his head.

He stared at the restrained Bear.

The answer appeared without much effort.

He wanted them to pay for all the stuff they did to him…

He glanced down at the red dotted items piled on the floor.

And to his associ-, no friends. He could honestly call them friends now.

Deep anger was evident on his face, his eyes locked with the now gold eyes of the figure.

A torrent of images and feelings passed between them within a second leaving him feeling both drained and depressed.

It smirked at him with sharp teeth contrasting from the black.

He felt like he had seen this before, but he couldn't remember from where. His mind was becoming muddled and his energy suddenly felt low. He couldn't look away as the figure turned its attention back to Bear.

With a quick jerk and a horrible pop, a cry of pain echoed through the cell block and he couldn't help the small smile from spreading across his face, the same smile he had seen on Bear's face a minute ago.

And it didn't stop there; it continued to pull at the arm making the ligaments give and the appendage tear away from the body. Bear screamed bloody murder with red quickly spreading across the floor. Dropping the smile, he watched the crimson pool in diluted amazement.

A sudden deep cold washed over him and he gasped before his numb legs gave out, but the shadows keep him suspended in the air. He lifted his dazed eyes back to the scene.

Dropping the arm, the figure lifted Bear off the floor and pushed him against the cell bars.

Gold eyes again smirked at him as the shadow leaned giving Bear a look over before biting into his neck and ripping it open. Dark red flowed freely as Bear drowned in his blood. The figure let go and the big man collapsed in a pile on the floor, struggling to keep his precious fluids from escaping.

He coughed slightly suddenly tasting copper. He felt some liquid drip from his mouth and he looked down to see drops of red stain the cement. Shocked, he looked up as soft footsteps came toward him. The shadowed figure was becoming more and more distinct the closer it came.

It stopped inches from him and his eyes widened with recognition.

"No, no, no…" He repeated trying to get his legs to push him away or maybe help him melt into the wall. Anything to get away from it.

The man was smiling with red smear across its face. It lifted a blood-covered hand and he pulled away.

"_I'm only doing what you want."_ It said dully, dropping the smile.

He shook his head, somehow finding a way to reenergize his hand to grab the wrist before its hand touched his face.

Another wave of cold passed through him and his hand dropped to his side in numbness. He glanced at the betraying arm before looking at the man with horror.

"_You want them dead."_ It said swiping its wet hand softly across his cheek, down his neck, and settling at his chest, out of sight. _"I'll make sure they're dead…" _Its eyes looked at him and smirked before pushing its hand forward._ "And anyone who interferes."_

He gasped at the sudden strange sensation which quickly escalated to immense pain and deep iciness. He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming while its smirk grew toothy with gold eyes sparkling. And as the world around him grew slowly dark, he vaguely noticed a burning feeling starting to intermix with the ice and the thing start to disappear in black mist.

**AN: Updates will be once or twice a week now: Wednesdays and Saturdays**


	30. Ch29 Not a Good Wake up Call

**Chapter 29 – Not a Good Wake up Call**

[Sat]

At close to three in the morning, the phone brought a message from Chief Vick that was short and to the point.

"Detective O'Hara, come to the station immediately. There's a situation here that requires your attention."

Her mind was tired, but had refused sleep and as she rushed to get decent enough to go to work, questions rose that seemed to thankfully turn her thoughts away from the tragic loss of her partner. She still hadn't shed any tears, though she felt extremely sadden and also angry at the three people who made the past few days hell.

She grabbed a cold Mountain Dew hoping the caffeine substitute would be enough to last through whatever Chief Vick wanted. She exited and locked her door.

The outside of the station was quiet as usual for the time of night, but the minute she stepped in she knew something was up. The officers on the night shift were nervous and on guard. A few of them were tending to minor wounds and she wondered what happened.

"_Maybe Leo and Bear tried to escape."_

She hurried the rest of the way to the Chief's office. The door was opened and she kindly knocked to gain her attention.

Chief Vick looked up from her spot behind the desk. "O'Hara." The Chief greeted, sounding extremely tired. "Come in and take a seat. Mr. Spencer is on his way and should be here shortly."

"Chief, what's-"

"I'll explain everything once he gets here." Chief said briskly and went back to looking down. She shifted a little to the side to see her nursing three red scratches on her right arm.

She kept her mouth shut.

Shawn, followed by Gus, appeared ten minutes later and the Chief motioned for them to close the door and take a seat.

"We have a situation. A major situation." Chief Vick started.

"What Leo and/or Bear escaped?" Shawn piped in crossly.

"No, Mr. Spencer and please do not interrupt me." Chief softened her glaring eyes. "It's been a long night and I haven't had any sleep."

Shawn nodded his head. "Sorry Chief."

"Like I said before, we have a major, major situation. As you can see, some of my officers are injured. They were trying to detain a person that had entered the station at around 1:30. This person was able to bypass security, access the lockup area, and attack Bear within his cell. All without anyone knowing. That is until they heard the commotion in the cell block. The nightshift was able to pull Bear away and lock this person in the cell, but not without taking down a few officers in the process. Bear and four officers were sent to the hospital. Three of which in critical condition, one includes Bear."

"What?" She heard Gus exclaim.

"Who is the person?"

"I'm getting to that, Mr. Spencer. While all of this was happening, I was at the hospital. I had received a call around one concerning a missing body."

Everyone sat up.

"There was no foul play. It wasn't misplaced. The hospital staff had searched for hours before contacting me, and we knew it couldn't just get up and walk out, but then I received the call from the station..."

"Wait a minute." She glanced at Shawn when he spoke. "Are you saying what I think you are saying?"

The Chief's eyes shifted slightly to the side.

An officer burst in the office. He was panicky. "I'm sorry to interrupt you, Chief. He got out."

"What?!" The Chief jumped up and rounded her desk.

"We don't know how, but the bars were bent."

She stood up, along with Shawn and Gus.

"Stay here." The Chief ordered when she walked past.

Another officer appeared. "Chief, we caught him. Strangely, he didn't put up much of a fight like last time and we managed to get him handcuffed in interrogation room D."

"Okay, I'll be there in a moment. Keep two on guard."

They both nodded before disappearing. The Chief closed her door back and rubbed a hand down her face.

"They're talking about Lassiter aren't they?" Gus asked with a little tremble in his voice.

The Chief sighed heavily before answering, "Yes, Detective Lassiter is here."

Silence fell for a few intense seconds.

"Don't tell me he was that obsessed with his job."

Ignoring the mumbled comment from Shawn, she looked at Chief Vick.

"But isn't he…" She added in.

The Chief looked at her with softened eyes. "Yes. I personally ID'ed the body, along with Mr. Spencer. I don't know what's going on here, but I need answers. Leo won't cooperate and you two," Chief Vick said motioning toward her and Shawn, "seem to know more than anyone here. What happened at that house?"

She swallowed the growing lump in her throat before speaking. "I secured Shawn while Carlton stood guard, but as we were escaping, Bear and Riley caught us-"

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, Detective O'Hara, but can you talk about anything pertaining to Detective Lassiter's behavior?"

She nodded her head. "Well Chief." She started thinking back. "Carlton was acting almost normal when I woke up, especially since I made him fall off the roof of a house."

Chief Vick gave a questioning look.

"He had helped me down, but he wouldn't explain how we got up there. When we entered the house, it looked like he was having trouble maintaining his composure, so I continued with the objective as quickly as I could. Then Shawn and I were taken hostage and that's when everything started to get strange…" She glanced at Shawn. Their eyes met with similar expressions before she looked away to continue.

"I think Leo was intentionally trying to make Carlton upset with the stuff he kept saying."

"What was he saying?"

"He told Carlton that he needed to accept it or the influence would eat at him. It looked like Carlton didn't know what Leo was talking about and he demanded that Leo fix whatever drug was used. But Leo said that he couldn't fix what was already there. Then Riley pushed Shawn at Carlton. For a second, I thought we had the upper hand. But Carlton grabbed him by the throat. He had that same look that he gave that cat in the parking lot. I thought he really was going to kill Shawn." She paused to take a breather.

"It was really weird." Shawn added softly. "But Lassie was fighting it." A crooked smile slowly appeared on Shawn's face. "Then he and Bear had that awesome fight." She looked at Shawn with a slight frown, but deep inside she felt the same way. She had never seen her partner fight like that. Not one hit had landed and it amazed her even more to see him disarm Bear in the second it took for her to blink. All of it was so strange and it made it hard to put in words what exactly had happened at that moment. So she continued past it.

"But something happened after the fight because Carlton became extremely disoriented especially after he and Leo exchanged words about his ex-wife. Then Riley stabbed him and everything went downhill. Riley collapsed, in which I'm not really sure what wounded her in the first place."

"It was Lassie." She heard Shawn mumble softly. She caught his slight gesture toward his hands. A brief spark of confusion flashed across her face before she turned her attention back to the Chief.

"I ran to him to try my best at comforting him and to keep him from pulling the knife out. I could tell he was dazed and his eyes were so glazed over. But when he saw Leo and Riley, it was like he lost all sense of himself and what was around him. He went after them and I tried to pull him back."

The gruff word she heard him growl vibrated in her head.

"_Kill."_

It didn't even sound like him and she wrapped her arms around herself. Tears stung her eyes, but didn't fall. She felt lost in her own memories before she softly added. "Carlton pulled away from me and Bear shot him right when our guys burst in."

A thick silence settled in the office. Chief Vick held a finger to her cheek trying to process the information.

She took the few minutes of silence to collect herself.

"_So Carlton is alive…"_ She thought. Her eyes glanced up at the Chief. "Can we see him?" She softly piped.

The Chief looked at her. "You can, since that room has an observation area."

A few seconds of indecision passed before the Chief opened the door and stepped out.

She quickly followed behind.

The nightshift gave them curious looks as they marched through the station to the back.

Tiredness had fled her body at the news and hope shined in her eyes. Her mind didn't want to wrap around the notion of her partner being dead. She just wanted to make amends for stupidly letting her gun fall into the enemy's hands. It was rule #47 on his list of Do Nots that he always used to preach to her. A whisper of a smile graced her lips at the memory before easing away.

Grasping the door handle to observation room D, the Chief turned to look at them.

"I personally don't want you to see, especially you Juliet. But something is telling me there's more going on and one of you should be able to help rectify this situation… hopefully, before daylight."

Then the Chief opened the door and they followed her inside.

**AN: Do you reeeaaalllly want to see him? Chapter 28 is a hint to what happened between 11 pm and 3 am.**


	31. Ch30 A Chutes and Ladders Confrontation

**Chapter 30 – A Chutes and Ladders Confrontation **

This was a room he and Gus frequented quite often. Memories floated around of all the different cases he had helped and throughout all those times, the atmosphere never felt so …heavy.

Maybe it was the lack of full sleep for the past three days or the stress finally taking effect.

He glanced at everyone. Jules had her hand over her mouth in silent shock, the chief was indifferent, but held concern in her posture, and Gus… well Gus was Gus.

Finally, he took his chance to look through the window at the person sitting handcuffed to the table. The detective had his head down on the table and was drawing circles on its surface. Blood was sprayed everywhere from the short scuffle, and it pretty much covered the table and the person sitting at it. He could see the remnants of white on the lab coat under the splatters of red, the dark grey of the pants he remembered from the house, and the worn, dark colored socks which hid the stains from walking in dirt and blood. His shirt was missing.

"_Probably got cut off during surgery." _

The notion made him feel sick.

Because one, seeing a supposedly dead man moving was not something anybody wanted to truly see, especially someone they interacted with almost every day, and two, it made it feel like he was definitely stuck in some kind of horror movie.

And it looked like he wasn't the only one who was thinking about horror movies.

"Is he a zombie? Because if he is, someone needs to… you know." Gus sliced a finger across his neck.

"He is not a zombie." Jules exclaimed with a glare.

"A vampire, then?" Jules and the chief both gave Gus a look. "I'm just saying. He was declared dead at the hospital. There is no way someone can get back up after being dead."

A thought occurred to him and he patted Gus on his shoulder as he walked closer to the window.

"Unless…" He whispered to himself.

Gus looked at him expectantly.

He pushed the button to turn on the microphone and screamed out. "Hey, Lassie!"

The person jerked up, giving a glare at the speaker on the wall as he tried to cradle his ears.

Before his hands were pulled from the microphone, he quickly noted the light eye color under the short curtain of damp hair.

"Mr. Spencer! What do you think you are doing?" The chief put a hand on her hip. "Provoking him is not a good idea."

"I wasn't provoking. I was checking something." He reached for the microphone again and the chief stopped him.

"And talking to him won't do any good either. I tried that right before Detective O'Hara got here." She pointed to the scratches her arm. "This is what I got for getting too close and trying to get through to him." The chief glanced back through the one-side window and whispered. "It's like he's not there."

"That's because he's not there." He caught the subtle surprise in Chief Vick's face. "And a certain spirit is telling me …rather loudly," he rubbed his ears and threw a brief glare at a corner of the room. "That Jules was right."

Silence met his comment for a few moments.

"What are you implying Mr. Spencer?"

"What was I right about?" He heard Jules ask under the more forceful question of the chief.

He partially turned to look at Jules. "Back at the diner, you said and I quote," With a high voice, he said. "'I'm starting to doubt you're even the person you've made us to believe you are' end quote." Back in his normal voice, he continued, "Well there wasn't any doubt before. Good old Lassie was there. Now however…"

He turned back to the window. The person had laid his head back on the table with eyes closed.

"What are you saying, Mr. Spencer?"

"I'm saying. That's not Lassie. It looks like him, but it's not him."

He tapped a finger to his cheek in thought.

%%%

There was no other conclusion. The pieces of the puzzle all fit in place and the revealed picture was pulled directly from a horror movie.

For the past couple of days, Lassie looked like he was fighting something internally, like something was taking over. Lassie being the way he was didn't tell anyone, instead he pushed everyone away to deal with it on his own, putting on a brave front.

"_No civilians caught in the crosshairs…"_

But frankly, Lassie was scared.

And what scared, no terrified, someone like Lassie?

It wasn't getting shot or being under pressure, or getting fired. It was losing control, and not having power over his thoughts and body.

At first, he had thought it was some kind of brainwashing, but something in his gut (along with what he saw, how Lassie acted, the minor changes) told him it was something else, something more.

Possession wasn't something he believed in and he definitely fought to debunk it at every chance he got, but this was taking the cake. Someone who he thought of as a friend, a reluctant one, but a friend nevertheless died yesterday giving whatever this was the perfect opportunity to take total control.

"_Charles took something precious from me…"_ Leo's word vibrated through his head. "_And I'm just returning the favor by exposing them for who they really are."_

His eyes studied the person at the table.

This was what Leo wanted to happen.

"_I only pushed buttons that were already there."_

Whatever Leo did, _whatever was in that syringe_, it had a snowball effect causing whatever that thing was to take over and ruin not just Lassie's life, but also his friends and 'family'. It was a perfect act of revenge for something that happened many years ago. Something that Lassie had no connection to other than in name and relation.

He didn't exactly see when Leo stuck Lassie, but once it was over, the syringe in Leo's pocket was empty and Lassie was unconscious from the gunshot and stab. He had a feeling Bear and Riley acted on their own, which went against Leo's plan.

"_I'll have to talk to Leo once this is settled and find out who exactly Charles is and what is really going on with Lassie. Maybe bribe him with some pineapple goodies to ease the tension. Mmm… I could go for a pineapple smoothie and tacos from that stand with the guy who starts dancing and singing if you mention…"_

He mentally shook his head centering his thoughts.

For now, he needed to focus on getting Lassie back from whatever Leo did (if he could) because he was not going to let this imposter walk around wearing a Lassie suit tarnishing his memory. Nope, he was not going let that happen.

%%%

"Not my head detective?"

"Yes and no." He looked at the chief with a hand raised to his temple. "I'm sensing that Leo purposely stirred up something as an act of revenge for an incident that happened many, many years ago." He dropped the hand. "And frankly I believe we need an exorcist." He said confidently with a slight smile, losing all the seriousness.

"An exorcist?"

Taking in all of their confused gazes, he opened his mouth to add, but Gus grabbed his arm and dragged him away before he could finish.

"Are you saying this is a possession or something? I thought you didn't believe in that stuff." Gus whispered.

"I don't. But you didn't see what I saw at his house the other night." He whispered back.

"What did you see?" Jules asked from right over his shoulder, startling him.

"Yes. Mr. Spencer, please do share."

He looked at them, guardedly. "Well I found a note written to Lassie."

"Are you talking about the note Leo left on his door?"

He glanced at Jules in surprise.

"I had seen him hide it and I figured it was from Leo." She explained.

"I found that, but there was another note written by Lassie to himself."

"Why would he do something like that?" Gus asked.

He shrugged. "He didn't know he wrote it and I have a feeling that," he pointed to the person at the table, "he wrote it. I also found a lockbox with a leather strap in it."

He sighed at remembering that he left it at his apartment, which he hadn't been back in since he was kidnapped.

"A leather strap?" He perked up looking at Chief Vick. "We confiscated it. Detective Lassiter made it clear that it was an important piece."

"Yes." He exclaimed happily. "Can I have it?"

The chief's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"So I can show you what else happened."

Chief Vick gave him a wary look before agreeing to receive the item. "Okay, I'll go get it out of Evidence. Stay here and Detective O'Hara make sure he doesn't do anything."

Jules nodded and the chief exited.

He slowly inched his way back over to the microphone and Jules smacked his hand when he reached for it.

"Aw, Jules. Come on." He whined.

"Stop it, Shawn. This is not the time for your antics." Her intense glare made him shrink away. She then turned to look out the window and her face softened with sadness. "What is wrong with you, Carlton?" He heard her ask softly.

A few seconds passed before a growl floated in from the other side of the window. It vaguely sounded like a grumbled answer, but he couldn't make out what it was.

"What was that?" He asked looking at Gus and Jules to see if they heard it too. His friend shrugged nervously and Jules still had her perplexed eyes staring toward the window. Apparently they had heard it. He glanced through the window. The Lassie imposter now had his head raised and was staring at the one-way window. It kind of felt like those eyes was staring directly at him. He felt a bit uneasy at the idea.

He took a step to the side away from everyone and another step back the other way. Those eyes followed his every movement with scary concentration. He tried to swallow the nervousness. There was no way the head detective could follow him from behind the glass.

His psychic trick with the glass involved remembering the detective's favorite spot to stand. The man was a control freak and always stood closest to the exit to be able to assess who was coming and going. But the detective wouldn't have been able to do that with him. He was too unpredictable.

"Shawn, what are you doing?" Jules asked.

He looked over. Both Gus and Jules were staring at him.

"He can't hear or see us right?"

"No." She responded. "Why?"

He looked back. The person was staring at some random spot on the window away from him.

"Um... nothing." He said hesitantly. _"Maybe it was my imagination."_

Then the chief reappeared through the doorway with a Ziploc bag. He jumped a bit.

"Now before I hand this over I have to know what you are going to do."

"Well Chief," he started slowly, "I was going to take it." He reached for the bag, but the chief pulled it out of reach. "And I was going to confront him and hope to bring our Lassie back."

"Do I need to remind you Detective Lassiter is not himself? He was found standing over a severely bleeding suspect and he attacked me and his fellow officers. I can't guarantee your safety. You will be in danger if you go in."

"I know. I'm his target." He said with air quotes. "But I was able to escape his house when that took over," He motioned a thumb toward the window, "And it wasn't by running really, really fast. Plus, it was too dark and I didn't get a good look at what the strap was."

"Ok here," The chief reluctantly handed the bag over. "But you will not go in that room."

Smiling, he took the bag and pulled out the item. The dark brown strap was made of a material that looked and felt like leather, but it was flexible, unlike leather. It had smooth, black metal ends and a three-inch purple flower with the stem and leaves stitched in green on the side.

"_Flower? Now where did I see that?"_

Closing his eyes, he filtered through the memories of that night, unconsciously raising a hand to his temple.

He got a hit and a plan started to form.

A big smile stretched across his face and he ran pass the surprised chief, out the door, and into the hallway.

His destination: interrogation room D.

He admitted.

His plan wasn't foolproof just like all his other plans, and just like his other plans, it had many, many things that could go wrong.

"_But nothing is accomplished without a little, tiny bit of risk. Right?" _

Placing the strap in his back pocket, he hurried down the hallway, waved to the unaware guards standing outside, and entered into the room. Taking a few steps in, dark eyes turned to study. He stopped to collect himself and to calm his nerves under the deep stare.

Okay, so what he was thinking of doing was stupid and a huge risk.

The chief entered right behind him holding the door open. He ignored her motions and heated whispers to leave the room. His attention was on the person at the table. After a few intense seconds, it turned its head away and laid it back down on the table.

"And a hi to you, too." He said with a smile.

The chief reached out to grab him and he stepped away.

"I just wanted to see firsthand how my favorite head detective was doing. I see you've been doing some redecorating." He heard a grunt. He glanced back at the chief. She was shaking her head. "You had us all crying at the hospital. Even the chief shed a few invisible tears." Maintaining his distance, he stepped to the front of the table, causing Chief Vick to step completely into the room. "The hospital makes few mistakes and declaring someone dead isn't one of them."

There was no movement.

"So are you the one Lassie's been fighting with for the past couple of days? Because I'm sensing," he heard a snort from the person at the table, "that Lassie is angry and wants back what is his."

There was still no reaction from the person.

Feeling frustrated at the bland disregard, he stepped up to the table, despite the protest of both the chief and his rational mind.

"I don't know what you are, but I will help Lassie." He said hitting the table with a hand.

He heard the clink of metal as it shifted in the chair to look up at him.

"Go away…Stupid Puppy." It growled with a rough slowness that sent shivers down his spine. He jumped back in surprise, and glanced at the chief who looked just as shocked as he was.

Green-yellow eyes met his. Familiarity passed through his mind and he pointed at the person.

"Oh, it's you." The chief looked at him strangely before he continued in a low whisper. "You're the one I met at the beach, the one at the warehouse, the one who chased me, and bit me twice-" He counted off tapping his finger in his hand.

"Taste…"

"What? You call that tasting. I'll have to totally disagree."

"Pineapples." It said with that same deliberateness as before. It licked at the blood on its right hand and continued to stare at him blankly with yellow-green eyes.

"Okay_._" He said a little uneasily. "_So it's responding to me. Time to see if this possession thing is true." _He stepped back up to the table. "So what brought you here?" He asked. "You're in the high seat, now. Why come here?"

It continued its blank stare, but now he could see it wasn't focused on him. Its focus was set behind him.

"Hello?" He waved a hand in its sight. There was no reaction. He huffed a bit at being ignored again, but went ahead and asked another question. "Why did you attack Bear? Didn't he give-"

"Bear." It growled lowly. Its eyes flashed in anger. Slowly, the person stood up, but the handcuffs attached to the table and both of its wrists didn't allow for it to fully stand up.

"Hey, hey. Sit back down." He motioned with his hands.

"Stay away." It growled at him and kicked the chair back, hitting the wall behind it. He heard the cuffs roughly hit the table once. It didn't give.

"Sit down before I use it." He demanded a little shaky.

It turned a glare his way and lightly tugged at the cuffs.

He swallowed hard. "Okay you asked for this." He pulled out the item from his back pocket and held it out so it could see the strap. He heard it mutter something lowly.

"I know you don't like this and I know how to use it." He said trying to show confidence in his threat.

Yellow eyes stared with a hidden fire at the object in his hand and it yanked hard at the cuffs again.

"Here." He held the strap out toward it and it jumped back as far as the cuffs would allow. He walked around the table with his arm still out. He quickly glanced at a stunned Chief Vick and gave her a reassuring smile before turning his full attention back on the possessed detective. "I'll put this back up," He continued waving the object, "If you bring Lassie back and you don't take control again."

It silently glared at the strap.

He took a step forward. "So what are you going to do?"

Those eyes then turned to lock with his.

And that was when he realized he had made a huge mistake. He didn't know what the mistake was. But that shadow of a toothy smile he caught before he heard the faint clink of broken metal and he somehow ended up lying on the table fighting the hand closing around his throat, proved he had missed something. Something vital…

The air had rushed out of his lungs at one point in time and he gasped for the small amount he could get.

"_Maybe I should've thought this through."_ The thought floated in unwanted as he stared up at the scowling head detective with deep, glowing amber eyes and twin, pointed fangs moving ever so close to him. And as blackness edged his vision, he faintly heard others entering the room.

%%%

The blackness soon eased away and he noticed immediately that he was lying across the room under the observation window. Gus was next to him, his expression frantic. Groaning, he sat up rubbing his throat.

"Shawn, thank God you're awake! Juliet is in trouble!"

"What?" He mumbled unfocused. His eyes wandered to see a struggling Jules being held up against the wall by a possessed Lassie. Chief Vick was unconscious on the floor with a bruise forming on her cheek. One officer was sprawled out unconscious in the corner and the other one was groaning from a broken leg.

His eyes widened. _"I wasn't out that long. Was I?"_

Pushing the thought away, he quickly scanned the room for the strap. It sat on the floor next to the table, near where the chief lay. He also spotted two tasers a few feet away from Lassie and Jules. One had its wires stretched across the floor and the other was perfectly fine, from what he could see.

They had to get to those items: the strap and the taser. Looking at his friend, he stated quickly in a low whisper, "Okay Gus this is what you need to do…"

**AN: *Shakes head* Shawn and his theories. I don't even think he knows what comes out of his mouth half the time, and he definitely didn't know the proper way to use that strap. Isn't it obvious what it is? So… What is going on with Lassie? Is he really possessed by something? Or was he just faking death? Will Juliet be okay? So many questions. Do I have the answers? **

**Yup.**


	32. Ch31 To Take the Breath Away

**AN: I know I'm late in updating. I had to rewrite this chapter because my brain thought it was a good idea to see another route this part could take. It made my life difficult just thinking about the gnawing details that would have to be changed in later chapters. **

**So after sleeping on it, here is the next chapter. **

**Chapter 31 – To Take the Breath Away **

"_This is all Shawn's fault."_ She thought as she struggled with the hand wrapped around her throat.

After trying to talk to him, she had stupidly punched Carlton in the arm to divert his attention from the unconscious Shawn lying on the floor. Snarling, he had turned those intense yellow eyes at her and she had frozen at the sight.

"_Carlton's eyes are blue. Why are they a different color?"_ She thought right before she realized that time was still moving, and she was taken by the throat and slammed into the nearest wall.

Her hands pulled at the iron grip around her neck and her legs kicked out, but the hits didn't seem to have any effect on him. She didn't want to become another casualty, but there was nothing she could do.

The Chief was knocked out from a backhand for trying to save Shawn from the initial result of his stupid antagonizing.

"_Why didn't Chief Vick stop him?"_

The two guards were quickly, almost pathetically placed out of commission before she and Gus had made it fully to the door. And figuring that their methods of corralling were no good, she had quickly ordered Gus to go wake up his friend in a hopeful chance that he could divine some way to bring Carlton back like he said, while she worked on distracting her partner. He was ultimately her responsibility: Partner code and all.

And her distracting strategy ended up not working in her favor, either.

The hand around her throat tightened stifling the cry that wanted to escape, but she did manage to get something to come out.

"Carlton. Stop." She reflexively stressed through the pain.

The pressure around her neck eased a little and she looked at her once dead partner.

She saw the deep yellow in his eyes melt into blue.

"Carlton?" She whispered in disbelief.

He stared back stoically and she was surprised to find him setting her back on the floor. The hand around her neck dropped limply at his side.

"You're still there." She breathed out rubbing her throat. His eyes continued to stare vacantly at her.

Then she heard Shawn yell out and she felt Gus pull her away from her partner. She looked over just in time to see Shawn pose to shoot a gun… no a taser. The prongs flew out and to the surprise of everyone; they missed, hit the wall, and landed on the floor. It wasn't Shawn's fault, even if he wasn't an expert marksman. Carlton just sidestepped the prongs… with his back to Shawn.

Pushing away the shock, she saw those smoldering, yellow eyes turn to Shawn and she ran around the table to stand defiantly between them.

"Carlton, stop this." She yelled. Just maybe she could reach him again.

The man scowled at them. No recognition was in his eyes as a hand flew toward her face.

She flinched away. Then she heard a heavy thump and a loud crash of something metal hitting the floor. She looked back up to see Carlton hunched over. Gus was behind him and the only chair in the room was rolling away.

Gus looked terrified as Carlton stood back up and turned toward him glaring daggers. Gus immediately turned tail and ran deeper into the room, away from the pile of unconscious people by the door. Shawn then grabbed her hand to meet Gus, so that the table would be between them and Carlton.

Carlton moved to give chase, but he stumbled a bit before grabbing the edge of the table. As he pushed off the table to stand fully, his movements seemed a bit sluggish. It looked like he was having trouble and the grim expression on his face was more than enough proof. His right hand moved up to hold his chest and a couple of harsh coughs wracked his body. She gasped when she saw blood, bright and red, splatter across the table and roll down the side of his mouth. His hand covered his mouth as another series of hard coughs started. They eased again and he looked unfocused at them. Glowing yellow glared before dimming into a glazed blue. She watched in slow motion as her partner's legs gave out and he crumpled to the floor. All of them stood dumbfounded.

Once the grip of surprise vanished, she ran over to her downed partner. She vaguely heard the Chief come to from her position on the floor and she looked up to see Shawn rush to help her.

Looking back at Carlton, she saw blood continue to trickle out of his mouth. She checked his pulse. His heart was beating and he was still breathing, but he was making a strange hissing noise.

"That's not a good sound." A nervous Gus muttered beside her. "It means a punctured lung."

"A punctured lung?" She asked still looking down at her partner.

"Um Juliet?" She looked up at Gus. "I think it would be best if he is double handcuffed."

She was about to respond back, but Shawn's question stopped her.

"What's that?" Shawn asked pointing at the table.

Her eyes followed as Shawn slowly made his way to the table along with Chief Vick, and leaned in to get a closer look at the item of interest. It shined gold and red in the light.

It was a bullet.

"_Did he cough that up?"_ She thought before mumbling softly,"But the doctor said it was removed."

"It was." The Chief spoke out. "One of the officers shot his gun in self-defense, but they thought it never made contact because Detective Lassiter didn't react."

Something in the air shifted and she looked back at her partner, noting the lack of the hissing sound. She checked his vitals.

They were absent.

She checked again. Nothing.

She cried out his name in a panic and pushed him onto his back.

"_He is not going to die in front of me." _

She noted the stitched and slightly healed gunshot and stab wounds from earlier before starting CPR.

"_I will bring him back."_

She stopped the chest compressions to check his vitals. Still nothing. She started again.

"_I won't stop until his heart beats again…"_

Her eyes glistened as she looked at his pale, red smeared face. Still nothing.

"_And he opens his eyes…"_

She ignored the notion from Chief that he was gone and shrugged off the hands trying to restrain her.

"_Because he would do the same for me."_

And she was still trying to revive him when the paramedics entered thirty minutes later.

She reached for him as she was dragged away and pulled into comforting arms.

Pushing away from the embrace, she watched the medics check, slowly shake their heads, and cover him with a sheet, officially declaring her partner dead…again.

She cried out with tears falling.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 31.5 – Unexpected Abnormalities <strong>

"_I can't find him. Where did he go?" _She thought running a hand through long, dark locks.

She usually knew exactly where he was… or at least had a general idea of where he was.

Her eyes scanned inside every room she opened down the brightly lit, wooden hallway.

But now she couldn't sense him or shrug off the feeling of immense quietness throughout the place. It felt wrong.

"_Maybe I shouldn't have left him alone."_

She opened a door, peeked inside, and quickly closed it.

Getting pushed away by one extreme and trying to calm down the other was not on her agenda, especially during such a critical time as this one was. Neither one understood the repercussions of their actions; actions that could make a small ripple become a giant wave of destruction. Because getting shot was traumatic enough, but getting shot, stabbed, and shot again all under a few hours...

A memory tried to surface, but she quickly squashed it. There was no time to dwell in the past.

Her legs carried her down the hallway to the next door.

High trauma always equaled danger to anyone and everyone around, especially to the person that caused the trauma. They pretty much painted a big 'Come Get Me' sign on their back. She had tried to deal with the situation by leading Mr. I-have-to make-sure-everyone-is-alright to the right solution, but her solution (along with his urges) had unknowingly caused a frenzy leading them straight to his 'executioner.'

Which was…

Worst-case scenario. Period.

She gritted her teeth in frustration at finding another useless room.

She felt a little bad for the Bear person, but she could only do so much with the leash forced out her hands, allowing **him** to run around loose and it didn't help that he was apparently telling it to put on a show, making it difficult to reel **him** back into the cage.

After it was all done and they ended up in that locked cell, he had disappeared leaving **him** at the head and making everything so strange and unstable. Then that smell had floated in from the vents. It took everything she had to divert **his** attention and even that wasn't enough.

"_Lucky that mirror had caught __**his**__ interest."_

She shook her head at the thought of the strange attraction. It was only one of a few that she knew of and she had made sure it was all **he** had to see. Even if, she had slipped that one time…

But that little slip up had caused some unusual and highly unwelcomed bonding time between the two of them that was only broken because the psychic had the guts to defy the warning. A warning she barely had enough logic to give in the middle of trying to keep **him** calm and distracted with pretty pictures.

Then the psychic just had to pull that out and wave it around like it was some kind of impenetrable shield that would ward them away. They weren't evil spirits. Damn it.

She blew a strain of hair out of her face.

"_Well I can't really say that."_

She shook her head of the thought and then slapped herself in the head.

"_That thing probably isn't even charged. Why didn't I think to check before giving it to him?" _

She rubbed the hand down her face and let it drop to her side. She sighed before starting her search again down the hallway. Minutes passed without any signs.

"_That_ s_tupid psychic keeps messing things up._ _Maybe I should just step back and let him be the new toy."_

She slammed another door to another empty room.

"No I can't do that." She rubbed a hand through her dark locks. "I should've just left the room when I had the chance." She mumbled. "It was easier than the cell. _Just break the doorknob._"

She really didn't understand why she stayed in the first place.

Her thoughts trailed off and she shook her head.

"_Focus on finding him."_

He was the key to fixing the current problem and this time she wouldn't let him push her away.

"_No more being nice."_

The subtlety tactic would also have to change. Lives depended on it.

Standing in the hallway, she looked up with hands behind her head, trying to think of where he could've gone. There were a million 'stations.' She sighed and then she heard light footsteps. Her eyes glanced down where another hallway interconnected to hers.

A tall male appeared with a black buttoned-up shirt, black dress pants, and no shoes or socks on his feet.

Their eyes met. She glared. He stared back blankly.

If she didn't know who that was, she could've easily mistaken him for the person she was actually looking for. But she knew who it was. The black collar around his neck was a dead giveaway. And if that wasn't enough proof, the mass of shadows following him was another. They all had their shadows to deal with. She dealt with hers differently and less out in the open.

Dropping her hands to her side, she turned toward him.

"What are you doing up here?"

He looked at her, a slight twitch edge at the corner of his mouth.

"Nothing? You think I'm stupid enough to believe that."

He grunted.

"And you have not been wandering around for nothing. What are you doing up here?" She repeated.

He continued to stare at her. That immense quietness suddenly felt heavy making her feel uneasy.

She placed a frown on her face and her eyes narrowed as she made her way down the hallway toward him, stopping just a few inches from him. She saw the slight flinch in his tall frame from the proximity.

"I know you're up to something."

He took a step back.

Glaring, she looked up at his still blank face and into his light colored eyes. "Tell me now or I'm taking my foot and placing it right up your ass-"

Before she knew it she suddenly found herself pinned to the nearest wall by stretches of long shadows wrapped around her arms and legs. A small cry escaped her lips at the surprising move and she saw the slight smirk graced his usually blank face as his hand move to touch her cheek.

It was soon forced back by a slight shock from the air.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Put me down." She snapped trying to pull herself from the wall.

He couldn't do anything unless they allowed him to do it. The collar made sure of it. Her eyes caught sight of the black object and widened slightly at the sight of thin cracks forming. A piece chipped and fell away from the whole, disappearing in a puff of blackened ash.

Her frown straightened as she raised darkened eyes to her charge.

A hand again slid toward her face, landing lightly on her cheek. She scowled at the contact before mentally shocking his hand away.

His smirk widened into a toothy smile and then quickly dampened as his gaze turned from her to focus down the hallway.

She followed his line of sight to see what had his interest.

It was the command center, as she had dubbed it. The room tended to appear and disappear depending on what was happening and it always had a different door. This time it was maroon in color with a silver handle.

"You know you can't go in there." She spat. "I won't allow it."

He needed a mediator to gain access and he knew that.

"Let me go and I'll be nice about dragging you back to your cage."

His eyes glanced at her before he headed down the hallway at a quick pace. The shadows eased away and dropped her to the wooden floor. She jumped up rushing to catch up to the tall man.

"Get your butt back here." She yelled trying to match his long stride.

He made it to the door and his hand grasped the handle.

"You know that won't hide you from my wrath." She gritted her teeth as she stopped a few feet from him.

He looked back at her and pushed down on the handle.

She fully expected the door to not open. But to her shock, it did. White light engulfed everything for a second before dying away.

And she found herself standing alone in the hallway. She hurried and tried the door. It was locked. Gritting her teeth, she punched its wooden frame before pushing away to run back down the hallway.

"That definitely wasn't supposed to happen." She mumbled, unconsciously rubbing her cheek in disgust.

**AN: I think I gave more details than I wanted to. Feels weird. *shrugs* Oh well. On to the next chapter.**


	33. Ch32 Subliminal Survival

**AN: I know I missed my usual update again. But between spending a day in a place with no reception, getting sick for a day, and preparing to throw a mini grad party for a sibling, whose graduation is tomorrow, I had a busy couple of days. Writer's block didn't help at all. So I figured stay up to pump this out right now or wait until everything calms down and post Friday. You can guess which one I picked. **

**Chapter 32 – Subliminal Survival **

He glanced at the covered body on the ground before following Shawn and a distraught Juliet out of the room.

A very small piece of him had wanted to stay. But then he had pictured the growing pool of red being absorbed by the white blanket and the apparent dead body underneath it. He even channeled Guts for a second, so that he could poke the body when no one was looking to make sure. Afterward he had realized a poke at an unconscious body would have the same reaction as a dead one and he had almost thrown up at the idea that he was (or could be) touching a dead body.

Collecting himself, he leaned against the wall by Shawn and Juliet as the paramedics did their jobs of caring for the injured in the interrogation room.

Despite that graphic image, something was picking at him. He didn't know what it was. But he knew whatever it was, it didn't feel right. None of this felt right to him. It made him feel both drawn to it and repulsed by it.

Whatever it was.

He looked down at the brown item in his hand. The strap that Shawn wanted him to grab and use against the possessed detective when he had saved Juliet. His friend didn't even tell him what exactly to do with it or how to use it. But he definitely knew not to wave it around and make Lassiter madder than he was. Any sane person could've seen Shawn's actions were going to cause some damage. Too bad Shawn wasn't entirely sane when he thought of his plans.

He flipped the object in his hands, turning it to and fro. He immediately noted a very faint flowery smell coming from it, but he couldn't place what flower it was from. He moved both metal ends to each of his hands to get a better look at the ends. There was nothing they could connect to. It was completely smooth and there was no attraction between them even when he put them together. He rubbed his fingers along its leather-like surface. Nothing seemed amiss until he felt the flower. There was a small raise in the center of the stitched picture. He pushed down on it. It didn't budge until his finger slipped to the side, and then there was a small audible click. He had only a second to wonder what that click meant before it shocked him to the seventh gate of hell. A cry escaped his lips and he dropped the thing. With widened eyes and shaking hands, he looked around. No one had heard or even looked his way.

Shawn was too busy consoling Juliet to even be bothered with his friend or to acknowledge that anything had happened. And the other people in the hallway were just too far away from him.

He looked back at the strap and lightly tapped it with his foot. Nothing happened, thankfully, and he quickly kicked it to the side against the wall. He would wait for some rubber gloves, if he were to ever pick that thing up again.

* * *

><p>Consciousness slowly came back as his ears picked up the sound of people moving around him. His thoughts were hazy and he couldn't quite figure out where he was. But instincts were telling him to keep still and quiet.<p>

"_Danger close."_ They said.

Unknown people were talking from above.

A door was opening and closing a few feet from his head.

Something soft and light covered his entire body.

His chest felt weighted.

He forced opened heavy eyes. Light gray filled his vision.

Never really focusing on anything, his mind floated in and out of the grayness. He wanted to go back to sleep, but something kept his conscious set in reality… or was it a dream?

For what felt like hours, his thoughts twirled around in a darkened sky, danced through leafy woods, ran on a gray, sandy beach, cautioned in a moldy building, and stopped to examine a fountain of morphing shadows…

Then he realized everything was quiet and instincts screamed from him to get up.

Sitting up, he obeyed. The heaviness shifted making him cough a little and adding specks of red to the light gray, which soon filtered into a beige wall with a thick, green horizontal stripe. His head cocked to the side trying to remember why that wall was so familiar. Shrugging, he followed through with the rest of the command.

Grabbing the edge of the table to his right, he slowly pulled himself up to stand. Stings of pain shot through his chest and stomach. He swallowed the grimace as he cradled the injured areas with his free hand.

"_Not safe. Get out."_ It said.

Holding onto the table for support, his eyes quickly scanned the room, lingering a bit on the mirror-like window before identifying the only exit. Ignoring the pain flaring with each movement, he pushed away the edging numbness and made his way to the door.

He could hear voices on the other side. Some frantic, some were saddened, some of authority, some were of comfort.

His red-covered hands wrapped around the door handle.

_An arm ripped from its socket. Crimson liquid free flowing._

He felt happy, but his instincts again screamed out._ "Danger still close. Get out. Go heal."_

He shook his head clear before pulling the door open and stepping into the hallway.

In the first second, he noted the tan coloring of the wall, someone in dark blue with a rolling bed softly squeaking to a stop at his left, crying and soothing words to his right, a water fountain humming, phones ringing, doors closing, people talking, a bird chirping…

Then complete silence when the door snapped shut behind him.

He could feel the multitude of eyes staring directly at him.

* * *

><p>"Lassiter?" He heard Gus ask in disbelief from beside him, directing a grieving Jules to look up from his comforting embrace.<p>

The tension rose about a million times through the roof as the supposedly twice, dead man appeared again, walking out of the interrogation room.

"Isn't he…?" Gus trembled.

His eyes scanned immediately, taking note of the amber eye color, the tense posture, and the slight, wild appearance.

"No, not Lassie." He muttered softly.

It reminded him of what attacked him at Lassie's house and he pushed a stunned Jules behind him. Daring a glance, he threw a warning at both Gus and Buzz (who had just arrived, along with other off-duty officers because they had heard chief, injured, and paramedics all in the same message).

"Don't move." He said.

Having psycho Lassie show up covered in blood with about ten or so equally tensed, armed officers in a narrow area was never going to equate to a good situation.

"_Equate? Did I just think that? Seriously, Gus must be rubbing off on me."_

* * *

><p>His ears twitched at the familiar sound of dislodging weapons from their holsters and the click of safeties being turned off.<p>

"_Danger close! Get out. Danger close!"_ It screamed over and over again.

His eyes quickly scanned around the area searching for an exit. The best chance was to the right; one weapon pointed his way compared to the ten or so the other way.

His hands tightened with decision.

Then movement to his right caught his attention. It stopped immediately at his stare. He glanced back to the left to see the hesitation of the people holding the weapons. Questioning voices met his ears as they lowered their weapons. It eased the screaming in his head.

No one moved.

Until that person in blue thought it was a good idea to move toward him.

His eyes trained on the intruder and he growled low, slightly baring his teeth. But the talking person ignored the warning and touched his arm.

His right hand flexed out.

* * *

><p>He knew what was going to happen before 'Lassie' even reacted to the actions of the concerned paramedic.<p>

"Move!" He yelled out as he tried to grab the quickly moving arm before it knocked the guy's head off their shoulders, but he missed the arm and stumbled into the possessed detective making the swipe miss the wide-eyed paramedic by inches. But he had only a tiny second to sigh in relief before he was pulled away by his shirt and pushed into the wall. A small cry escaped his lips at having sharp nails dig into his shoulder and pin him to the hard surface.

He saw Jules move toward them and he quickly called for her to stay back. He then turned back to 'Lassie'.

"I get it. You want me to stay away." He groaned. "I'll stay away, just let me go."

There was no response, but its eyes were searching.

Searching for what? He didn't know.

So he stared back and into those glowing pools of amber. Recognition was entirely absent. A distinct haze and wild resolve seemed to have taken its place. It was something he had never seen Lassie do.

His eyes quickly scanned, looking for something he could do to snap the detective out of whatever this was. His search immediately found something, but it was a weird something. There was a faint tan line wrapped around Lassie's neck, about the same size as…

"_Why didn't I notice that before?"_ He thought, filtering through his memories and finding other times he could see the faint marking. _"Maybe because you didn't think a person of his caliber would be into kinky stuff like that." _

He shook his head clear of the joke and the image that it bought.

A flash of white pulled him from his thoughts. 'Lassie' was scowling at him.

"_I guess he recognizes me now."_

He watched frantically as it looked him over before leaning in…

Bracing himself, he kicked out with both feet, sending 'Lassie' back against the interrogation door.

"I am not about to become your chew toy again." He said standing back up. Groaning, he rubbed his back. He didn't think being pushed and held against the wall was going to hurt so much.

Snarling, 'Lassie' stood up holding the door for support with his right hand.

Suddenly twin metal points attached themselves to 'Lassie's' right shoulder, causing him to go rigid.

He looked over to see Buzz holding out a standard-issue, black and yellow taser; a far-cry from the old stun gun he had took from his dad's place. The zappy noise of the charged wires could be heard and he threw a quick smile at Buzz, who returned it with a slight nod.

But that moment of reprieve was short lived as a growl, guttural and low, sounded from the supposedly subdued person. Its eyes glared at Buzz as it yanked off the live electrodes and threw them to the ground.

Growling low, 'Lassie' took a couple of threatening steps toward Buzz before it move to lunge at the tall officer, but a mass of four black uniforms rushed in to restrain the detective against the wall and pull him down to the floor.

It had looked like it was working, but to the surprise of everyone, 'Lassie' started to slowly push himself off the floor with the pile of heavy officers trying to keep him pinned down.

His eyes quickly scanned the area trying to remember where the strap was. He was right about it being important and now he knew how to use it.

He spotted it lying on the floor behind Gus.

"Gus" His friend looked at him and he pointed to the object on the floor. "The strap."

Gus' eyes widened with something akin to fear and he shook his head with a forceful "No."

"Gus. Please."

His friend kicked the object over to him and he picked it up by both ends. He was about throw a quick thank you, but he immediately noticed a pulling between the two metal ends that wasn't there before. He didn't have time to think about it because 'Lassie' broke free from the dog pile.

With the detective's attention elsewhere, he quickly inched his way over and threw the strap around the man's neck. It clicked in place. Immediately, a painful shock went through his hands and he jumped away trying to play off the whimper that had escaped from his mouth. He looked around while rubbing his hands to get the feeling back. It seemed the four officers, who were wrestling with detective, had also felt the shock. His eyes wandered back to the still standing man, who surprisingly looked both dazed and relaxed despite the electricity running through him. He could also hear a soft mechanical hum from the frozen 'Lassie.'. It sounded like a fan motor.

* * *

><p>He could smell lavenders in the air and it was making him feel lightheaded. His right hand went to his head as he leaned against the wall and slid down. The screams of danger were weaning away to dull whispers, making the fog lift up and float away.<p>

Closing his eyes, he waited for the dizziness to ease.

With the disappearing of the fog, came the flood of pain and aches from all of his wounds and he bit his lip to keep from crying out.

He inhaled and exhaled.

"_What happened?" _He thought trying to ease the pain mentally. One second he was searching the hallway and the next he was here. _"Wherever here is." _

His ears picked up the soft, cautious voices of different people. The scent of lavenders floated through the air, clearing his head and giving him a general idea of his location.

He cursed under his breath.

Taking another few deep breaths, he opened his eyes to see the familiar floor of the station.

He cursed again feeling a wave of uncertainty wash over him at seeing the state of his left hand which was on the floor keeping him balanced. Half of a handcuff dangled from his wrist and the hand had slightly sharpened nails covered in fresh blood. He felt the other half of the cuff on the right, which still cradled his head.

As he pushed himself to stand, the voices died into silence. He could feel them trying to anticipate his next action. Leaning with his back on the wall and his eyes still to the floor, he let his right hand drop to his neck feeling the familiar weight and material.

It was like an old friend.

"_A feisty old friend." _He thought when it shocked him for tugging at it. His hand immediately flinched away and he allowed it drop at his side. It didn't hurt as much as it did when fully charged.

In knowing this, he realized the clock was counting down. There wasn't much time until the small charge on the collar failed and for its effects to wear off. He had to get out of here before that happened, but the question was how.

Stretching his senses, he took noticed of the ten to twenty people around, every single one on the edge.

"_Thankfully no one important was hurt too bad."_

But one wrong move on his part and he would be really dead, not just trapped in a coma like before.

"_What to do? What to do?" _

There were multiple ways.

One-third of them got him shot…again,

One-third of them forced him into a corner to provide answers to a torrent of questions,

And the last portion had the timer expire, him backed into a corner, and shot point blank for 'redecorating'.

"_What to do?"_ He asked himself again.

Seconds ticked by before an idea popped in his head and he nodded at the one non-existing answer, making his head swoon a little.

His dark eyes flicked up to the person across from him, who surprisingly had stayed quiet during his inner contemplation. Waves of anxiety and excitement were coming from the 'boy.'

He internally frowned at what he was about to do. It was going to further tarnish his reputation and perhaps hurt a little. But it was better than the alternative.

"_Maybe they'll just blame it on the imaginary drugs or that possession thing the puppy keeps talking about." _


	34. Ch33 Rush to Safety

**AN: What has it been? Two weeks? I have no excuse… except maybe writer's block, a bus load of distractions, and life in general. So to make up, I've added what was supposed to be chapter 34 to this chapter as a tag. They go together anyway.**

**Chapter 33 – Rush to Safety**

For once, he really didn't know what to do with this …unknown situation. On one hand, it might end peacefully. But on the other hand, if his eyes weren't playing tricks on him, this just might end badly, very badly.

And he would have to guess, everyone else was thinking the same thing because they stood frozen, waiting for the man to make a move. It was a typical tactic in assessing strange situations, considering the head detective had just showcased some very supernatural abilities, including getting up from being dead twice.

But based on the confused expressions and hesitant actions of most of the officers down the hallway, word hadn't fully gotten to them about Lassie's death.

So he'd had to guess that their caution was more from seeing the detective being able to resist four, burly officers by himself. (He didn't want to add the fact that the strap turned collar did help shock everyone away.)

"_And the covered in blood part should make them very nervous too."_ He added as an afterthought. He swallowed the growing lump in his throat when the detective looked at him.

Those dark green eyes were freaky. It was different from the wild amber or the calm, icy blue he was used to seeing. It was a combination of both and held a pool of knowledge and resolution that neither one had. And right now, it stared at him with the same creepy calculation he saw flash through Lassie's eyes right before they left to go to the warehouse, oh so long ago.

He watched those green orbs turn away from him and do a quick look over of everyone around before settling on staring at Buzz. It looked like the detective was eyeing the gun strapped at the officer's side. That was bad, but it did show that the man wasn't being ruled by impulse like before or whatever wild thing had possessed him. Just maybe their Lassie was on the surface and he could now talk to him.

He pushed off the wall slowly. "Lassie?" He questioned. It came out soft and he quickly cleared his throat to cover his nervousness. The man continued to stare at Buzz, who looked extremely anxious under the stare. The spent taser was clinched tightly in his shaking hand.

He inched his way closer to Buzz. "Lassie?" He questioned again. The man continued to stare at Buzz. He allowed a few seconds to pass before he leaned a bit over in front of Lassie's sights and spoke again a little louder. "Las-"

"I can hear you perfectly well, psychic." Lassie growled sharply.

He straightened with widened eyes.

"And don't call me that." Green eyes filled with annoyance turned to look at him. "I don't even know why he tolerated that."

"He?" The question floated out before he knew it.

The detective's annoyance deepened. "You know who I'm talking about. That goodie two-shoes, always in the way." Lassie spat before a slight smile crawled across his face. "But now I don't have to fight anymore. I guess I could thank you for that."

"What?" He whispered. There was a thought scratching in the back of his head, but he didn't want to believe what the detective was implying.

The man then tapped the object around his neck. "He never liked this thing. It made him compliant. But it's not like it really matters now," Lassie rubbed a hand over the right side of his chest pushing the lab coat aside slightly and giving him a quick view of the bloody hole from the bullet. "That added gunshot made him disappear completely."

He paled.

"I wonder…" Green eyes continued, glancing at the crowd of cops down the hallway with a toothy smirk. "If I should personally thank the officer who pulled the trigger. I can still smell the gun powder residue on his hands and I so love the color red."

In the crowd, one mousey looking man with very scared eyes quickly backed away and ran down the hallway screaming.

"Aw, he's kidding." He laughed trying to ease the tension in the air. It sounded a bit unsure, but he tried his best to cover it up. "You're kidding. Right, Lassie?"

Heated eyes glared at him and he shut his mouth.

"What did I just say about that stupid name?" Lassie growled, taking a couple of steps toward him. He felt Buzz move to step in front of him, but someone else beat him to it.

* * *

><p>"Carlton, you need to drop this act." She said stepping up to her partner with wet, angry eyes.<p>

She was tired. The past few days had been full of confusion and she was just tired of it all.

The unanswered questions.

The answers that made more questions.

And her partner being right in the middle of it, holding everything. A partner who was standing in front of her, breathing and alive…

"_But a few minutes ago, you didn't feel a pulse and neither did the medics …or the hospital."_

She pushed away the thought of Carlton being dead. There was no way he was dead. This had to be some trick, some kind of show to get out of answering those questions.

Her fist tightened. "I- We need answers."

The irritation on Carlton's face quickly settled into amusement.

"Answers? You want answers." He mused before seeming to appear next to her with a hand wrapped lazily around her right shoulder. She felt a slight tingle at the contact and she glanced to the right to see a stunned Shawn and Buzz getting up off the floor in front of an equally stunned group of officers. Her eyes widened when another hand moved to caress her throat softly like sharp knives against skin. It was a familiar touch and Leo's words suddenly floated in her head.

"_I know you got so caught up in the rush that you almost tore your pretty partner's throat out."_

The thought and touch almost brought her back to being helplessly tied to a chair in the dark basement of that warehouse with a tall shadow leaning over her.

"_Taste…" _ It had said coarsely.

Her breath hitched in her lungs when Carlton leaned down and whispered some words very harshly in her ear. The words, thoughts, and memories rebounded in her head making it hard to process what he just said, but she had heard it perfectly.

"The Carlton you know isn't here, woman." He had growled.

* * *

><p>His mind hadn't caught what happened between standing behind Jules and ending up on the floor with Buzz, but he could deduce that Lassie had somehow thrown or pushed both of them to the floor all in a span of a few seconds. How was the man able to that? He didn't know. But the answer to that question wasn't important at the moment.<p>

"Let her go." He demanded jumping to his feet.

Lassie threw him a sideways glance before standing up fully. The earlier amusement was replaced by indifference.

"You don't want to hurt her." He motioned his hands toward Jules. "She's your partner for crying out loud."

Lassie's eyes glanced down slowly drawing a line across her neck with a finger. "She's not my partner."

He saw Jules flinched when a small trickle of blood escaped from the thin scratch.

"I have no connection here, so killing a few people is nothing to me." Lassie looked up, meeting his eyes.

He could see nothing, but truth in the green color.

Lassie then cocked his head to side as if listening for some far away sound before his head jerked to stare down the hallway behind him. Gus gulped and rushed to hide the pipe in his hand.

"But it'll have to wait." He heard Lassie mumble before turning his attention back on everyone. "Now if you don't want anything bad to happen to her, I would highly suggest no one try to attack or follow me."

No one moved and it took everything in him to do the same. His fist trembled as he watched the imposter pick up a struggling Jules and start to back track down the hallway past Gus, heading towards the back exit.

"And psychic," Lassie paused grappling with Jules for a moment. "Say hi to Leo for me, if you find him before I do." The man then turned and ran the rest of the way disappearing around the corner and out of the exit with Jules still in hand.

* * *

><p>The cool morning air hit him as he burst from the back door of the station with the struggling woman in his arms.<p>

"Stop moving. You're going to make me drop you." He growled scanning the parking lot for a passage of escape. It was much easier and a lot quieter when she was unconscious, but he couldn't knock her out. It wasn't needed. Nor could he just leave his ticket to freedom. If he did learn anything from watching in the background, it was that hostages gave leverage. Leverage that was desperately needed at the moment.

Because frankly, getting shot hurt.

His vision wavered a bit before correcting itself. He silently cursed.

At hearing people running toward him from inside the building, he took off in a random direction. The door banged open just as he reached the tall fence of the perimeter. He looked it over before backing up to get a running start. The woman screamed for him to stop as he leaped over the barb wire fence and landed on the other side. Throwing a smirk over his shoulder, he ran across the street. The early morning rush hour was just starting, so a few cars honked at him. He made sure the woman wasn't in any danger when a car almost hit them. But he could feel she was thinking the exact opposite.

"_He wouldn't like for her to be hurt."_

The midnight blues in the sky were starting to lighten as he ran using the buildings and roofs as cover for his escape. He kept running until his body thought it was a good time to start passing out and he paused to clear his head between some buildings miles away from the station, but close enough to his intended destination. He choked down the onset of coughs and once the lightheadedness eased, he took off again with her in tow, kicking and screaming.

He didn't stop until he was right across from where he wanted to be and he gently let his hostage go from his tight embrace. Exhausted, but not showing it, he stood there expecting her to run like hell away from him. Instead, she just stood there and stared at him. She looked shocked.

Well it was her apartment building across the now vacant street.

"_And don't forget, I also dodged cars, scaled walls, and ran across roofs to get here."_

He looked at her with annoyance. "What? Go on." He waved at her. "You're free-" His right hand quickly covered his mouth as swift coughs shuttered his body. He felt liquid on his palm and he quickly wiped it on the already soiled coat. His eyes glanced at the blond woman.

She was scrutinizing him and she had every right to. He had just technically died, came back, told her he was someone else, and threatened to kill her not a few moments ago.

"_She's trying to figure me out." _Shrugging, he turned and started walking away. _"Well, let her do whatever. I'm leaving."_

His mind was already in the process of figuring out the next best route to take in correcting the imbalance and gaining his full strength back. After that, he would have to pay that bastard a visit for starting all of this.

"_That is, if they didn't get my hint and I get to Leo first…" _

His hands tightened into fists just thinking about everything, all the years of work...

Suddenly a sharp flare of pain flashed through his chest, making him stumble a bit in his step. Holding his chest, he collapsed against the wall as a couple of coughs came through.

"_Damn, must've reopened some wounds."_ He grimaced, feeling blood drool down the side of his mouth. Through the black edging at his vision, he felt the tingle of familiar energy and he fought to keep it all back_. "Just a little longer… until I find someplace safe." _

He vaguely heard footsteps coming his way and he quickly tried to compose himself to glance up at the now towering woman through his blurry vision.

"Did you not get the idea of freedom?" He asked pushing away the pain to throw her a diluted glare.

She ignored him to grab his arm and pull him up from the ground.

"What are you doing?" He asked alarmed at her action as he was forced to stand.

"Sling your arm over me." She answered.

"What?"

"Sling your arm over me." She repeated.

He didn't do it, so she took his arm and threw it over her shoulder.

"Come on."

Paralyzed by the pain and too stunned at the unexpected change of heart, he allowed her to lead him across the street, into the building, up the stairs, and into her apartment.

She led him to the kitchen and made him sit on one of her kitchen chairs.

"Stay here." She ordered.

He watched her disappear down the hallway before letting his eyes wander around the room. It immediately fell on the mirror hanging on the wall. His bloody reflection stared back. He quickly looked away, subconsciously wiping the blood from his mouth with his sleeve. The remains of the handcuffs gave a small clink with the movement. He looked at his hands.

"_Nothing is out of place."_ He noted, flexing his fingers. _"But…" _Looking back up, he took notice that the dark blues outside the window had lightened to blue. Something moved in his peripheral and he looked over to see the shadows grow slowly dark and begin to wave in a nonexistence breeze.

"_That's not good."_ He thought. "I can't stay here." He muttered, slowly moving to stand up. His chest protested the movement, but he ignored it.

Then something rubbed against his leg and he jumped up from the chair. He heard the soft meow before seeing the animal stare at him from under the table. He growled at the mangy animal.

It meowed again and then slinked off past him and into the living room.

"Don't growl at my cat." The woman said reappearing with a wet towel and first aid box in one hand and a phone in another. Putting the first aid on the table, she pushed him back in the chair and placed the towel on his face.

Growling, he immediately pulled it off. "What is up with you? I threatened to kill you and you bring me into your house."

She threw her own glare before quickly dialing three numbers and placing it on her ear.

He again jumped up from the chair with the towel in his closed fist and tried to snatch the phone. She stepped away.

"No hospitals." He glared.

She ignored him. "Yes, I would like to request an ambulance…"

"No hospitals." He repeated. "Or did the previous trip not stress you enough."

She looked at him. Her whole demeanor had saddened and he took this opportunity to take the phone from her. His finger hovered over the end button before he took notice that she never called, just dialed the number.

He heard her mumble his name and he looked up at her. She was staring at nothing and her eyes were shining with tears. He noticed her legs shaking and he took a couple of nonchalant steps toward her.

If her legs were to give out, he would make sure she didn't hit the floor.

And even if it didn't show on his face, he had felt his own demeanor sadden at catching such an agonizing look on her face. He sighed at feeling the need to explain, but again he knew he couldn't say anything. It wasn't his place.

"_But I could ease her worry just a little bit." _He glanced sideways at her dazed form."You know I didn't die." He stated plainly.

Her eyes turned to look at him.

"And I'm not possessed or anything like that."

Her tearful eyes looked at him. "B…but how? You had no pulse. I felt-"

"You felt nothing because it was too low." He saw the why on her face before it came out of her mouth and he shook his head in response. "There are some things I can't explain."

He looked away. Tall dark shapes with stretching branches were forming in the corners of the room.

"But..." He turned to the woman trying to ignore the growing problem of time. "I do apologize for my earlier actions. I got a little carried away."

Her right hand wrapped around her throat covering the now dried patch of blood there. "There were too many things going on. I had to leave before-" Then the collar started beeping and his face fell. "That started." He quickly stepped away from her. "Damn, too late." He mumbled.

* * *

><p>They stared at each other. Carlton didn't move, so she didn't move.<p>

The beeping continued for a minute before dying away and the tension eased along with the annoying sound. She saw him exhale the breath he was holding.

He looked thoroughly confused.

"What was that about?" She asked.

He rubbed the back of his head and looked around.

"I can still smell them." He answered.

"Smell them? What pineapples?"

"Nope, that problem was solved." He looked at her. "Do you happen to have anything with lavender in it?"

"_Solved?"_ She thought before saying, "Yes, I have some lotion with it and a couple of flowers someone brought for me over there." She pointed to her kitchen counter. "Why?"

He shook his head with a slight smile.

"You just saved yourself…"

"Saved myself?"

"I guess it's safe to stay here." He continued walking pass her.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you have an extra pair of clothes I can fit in?"

"Carlton."

"Where's your shower?"

"Carlton!"

"Where's a good place I can sleep? Maybe I'll sleep on the couch."

He was still asking questions and talking to himself when she walked over to him and pushed him in the back. He coughed a little in his hand before turning to her.

"Hey, what was that for?"

"You weren't listening to me." She glared.

He glared back.

"What is going on, **Carlton**?"

Green eyes stared at her, so different from the usual blue or that strange yellow in the interrogation room.

"Can I get cleaned up first before I explain anything? It's really making me feel bad."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You sure you will explain everything to me after this?"

He shook his head.

"Not everything." Her expression grew annoyed. "Because I don't know everything. But I'll explain what I know about…" He motioned to himself. "This."

Her expression lightened. "Ok. I'll get you some clothes. One of my brothers should have left something here and then I'll get you patched up."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 33.5 – Letting Go to Make You Stay<strong>

"_What am I doing?_ _How can I easily accept what he said?" _She thought as she flopped on the couch. _"If what Shawn said was true and if Carlton wasn't lying at the station…" _

She glanced at her closed bedroom door, where her 'partner' was getting himself cleaned up. She could hear the water running in the shower.

"_What if this was some __**thing**__ that Leo helped take over my partner? Something that had some hidden agenda to perform."_

She shook her head at the thoughts. It sounded crazy.

"_Along with Carlton feeling comfortable wearing a collar."_

There was a part of her that was starting to believe it, but her detective side wanted all the facts and continued to believe in his innocence. It was a major part of her that still trusted him and didn't feel scared around him. Even back at the station, she didn't exactly feel scared. Yes, she was nervous when he grabbed her and told her those things, but she knew (or felt) he wouldn't do anything to really hurt her.

The foggy memory of that basement still clung to her, though.

She rubbed a hand across her cheek before letting it drop back on the couch.

"_If he really wanted to kill me, he could've done it ten times over. He had plenty of opportunities."_

And she could have easily ran away when he let her go.

She sighed looking at her gray cat as it sauntered over to her and jumped up on the couch. Her hand started to rub the soft fur.

Maybe it was the careful way he ran through the streets with her in tow, screaming bloody murder. Or the very familiar one-sided Lassiterian argument they just had right before she agreed to find him some clothes. Or the glimpses of blue she kept seeing when he talked to all kept her hopes up that her Carlton wasn't really dead; that it wasn't her fault he 'disappeared.'

But this new Carlton was weird. He felt wrong. Almost like he was trying to be Carlton, but had to keep himself detached.

"_Speaking of detached, not one time has he said my name."_

Now that she thought about it, at the warehouse he was acting the same way.

She huffed._ "Everything is so confusing."_

Tiredness was starting to creep in and she yawned. She glanced at the buzzing cell phone in her hand before lying her head down on the edge of the sofa to keep watch of the bedroom door.

She had sent a quick text to Shawn while she was getting the wet towel and first aid for Carlton. It was just to let him know that she was alright. He had responded back asking for her location. She didn't give it to him. She knew he would make things worse. So instead she had texted that she was fine. Shawn didn't stop texting and even called a few times. She ignored them.

She yawned again and her eyes drooped.

And then they popped open when she felt someone tapping her shoulder. She looked up with tired eyes to see someone unexpected standing there.

"Shawn?"

Looking around, she quickly sat up. A light colored blanket slid off her shoulders and she grabbed it before it hit the floor.

"_Where did the blanket come from?"_

"Jules." Shawn said in relief.

She looked back at him as he fell to his knees and pulled her into a hug. She spotted Gus standing a few feet away looking a little relieved himself and strangely nervous.

"Are you okay?" Shawn asked pushing her at arm's length, so he could see her. "He didn't do anything to you?"

She shook her head. "No. What are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"No time for that. Come on." He then pulled her up from the couch and hurried her toward the door.

"Shawn, what's going on?"

The blanket was still wrapped around her shoulders, and as she was pushed past the threshold of her apartment and into the hallway, her mouth opened in disbelief when she saw the four heavily armored police officers lined against the wall.

They rushed in as soon as they were cleared from the door.

"Shawn?!" She yelled.

"It's okay, Jules. All that matters is that you're safe." He moved to embrace her in a protective hug.

She pushed him away to go back into her apartment, yelling for her partner. Shawn grabbed her and pulled her back to him.

"That is not Lassie, Jules."

She pushed away from him again, glaring. "He is still there."

Shawn just shook his head.

"Chief." One of the entry officers said walking out.

Turning in shock, she didn't even notice Chief Vick standing there. A white bandage cradled her right cheek.

"Yes." The Chief called out with authority.

"We have searched the premise. All is clear, except for one bedroom. It is locked. We are waiting for your order to breach."

The Chief quickly glanced her way before nodding her head. "You have the clear to breach."

"Yes, ma'am." And the armored officer disappeared back into the apartment.

Pulling away from Shawn, she made her way to stand beside the Chief.

"Chief-"

"I'm happy to see that you're okay, Detective O'Hara." Chief Vick stated still facing the entrance to her apartment.

"Chief," the armor officer appeared again. "There are no hostiles in the room. Everything is clear.

Her shock was evident, but the Chief's stayed hidden.

"However there is a note left on the bed. We have not touched it."

She glanced at her boss. Chief Vick just nodded her head and entered the apartment. She quickly tagged along behind her and she heard Shawn and Gus followed her in.

As she followed quietly, her eyes caught something strange making her stop.

"What's wrong, Jules?" Shawn asked from behind her.

"My lavenders…" She muttered questioningly looking at the relocated vase of purple flowers sitting on the end table next to where she was sleeping.

"What about them?" Shawn ventured a little forward to look at them.

"They were in my kitchen." She said throwing her blanket on the couch.

"Hey, what gives? Two of them are missing. You didn't give them to someone?" He whined. "They were only for you."

"Shawn." She rolled her eyes.

"Detective O'Hara." She heard the Chief call.

"Yes, Chief." She answered.

Once she reached the entrance to the guest bedroom, her boss handed her a small white piece of paper.

"Decipher this as quickly as possible. We need to locate Detective Lassiter fast."

She glanced down at the note.

"There's no telling what danger he poses to the public." The Chief added.

Dropping her hand by her side, she looked back up at the Chief, ignoring the obvious sign of Shawn and Gus trying to see what was written.

"Chief, Carlton isn't going to hurt anybody." She started. Everyone, who witnessed the station incident, gave her a funny look, as if to say 'really.' She stood defiantly against their stare. She had to defend her partner, but his pseudo-threat was fresh on everyone's mind.

"Juliet, you can't be serious." Gus cried out. "He almost killed us in that room. He threatened to kill you."

"But he didn't kill us or me. He was trying to get away from the station, and from us. He had told me when he dropped me off here and I pulled him into my apartment." Another wave of funny looks passed through the group and she quickly assured them she wasn't crazy with her next sentence. "He was coughing up blood and on the verge of passing out. I couldn't leave him out there."

A few seconds of silent acceptance passed through the air. She glanced at the unusually quiet Shawn before Chief Vick spoke up.

"So Detective O'Hara why was he trying to get away from us?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it.

"He didn't tell you that. Did he?" The Chief stated.

She shook her head. "No, but he was going to, and then I fell asleep." She answered dejectedly.

"There had to be a reason for him to leave in the obvious, bad condition he was in and I'm going to assume the worst-case scenario." Chief Vick stated staring directly in her eyes.

"And what's the worst-case scenario?" Shawn asked finally speaking.

"Mr. Spencer, I believe Leo is controlling Detective Lassiter's actions some way, either by chemical or mechanical means. It also seems that Leo used Detective Lassiter as a distraction to escape." The Chief's eyes scanned the three of them. "He might even be programmed to meet Leo somewhere. That is why we need to find him as quickly as possible. If they meet, Leo could decide to use him for another purpose or dispose of him completely."

Another wave of silence floated through intermixed with tension.

"Now Detective O'Hara decipher that note as quickly as possible."

She nodded her head at the Chief and looked at the note.

**-10- **

**12**

**Keep 60**

**44 denied **

**20 denied**

**15 **

**77 tomorrow**

**DOA**

**11-42**

**Make puppy sit and stay**

**4**

**-CL**

**AN: The note is a nod to a challenge posted on psychfic, about writing a whole story in code. It interested me, but the challenge itself is a bit much. It took me a while just to get this small code to portray what I wanted. **

**So if you happen to crack this riddle, then here's a cookie (::) or two (::) (::)**

**And if you want a hint, just leave a review stating so. Or wait until the next chapter, which will thankfully be posted on Sunday.**


	35. Ch34 Message Deciphered

**AN: Thanks to all those that tried to crack Lassie's code. A few got close and only one almost got the whole message in one go. *cough*Jesse*cough* The freaking police officer in-training that she is. I am going to have to make my riddles a little harder next time.**

**Chapter 34 – Message Deciphered**

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" She heard Shawn ask over her shoulder and she rolled her eyes.

"It's some kind of code." Gus stated on the other shoulder.

"You know that note looks similar to the one written to Lassie from himself. Same messy handwriting." Shawn stated, pointing over her shoulder.

"I guess Lassiter likes to write in riddles." Gus said a little close to her ear.

"Guys. Can you give me some space?" She said in a huff, glaring at them. They backed off.

"Ouch, Jules. We're only trying to help."

Ignoring Shawn, she took a few steps away to read the note in peace.

**-10-**

**12**

**Keep 60**

**44 denied **

**20 denied**

**15 **

**77 tomorrow**

**DOA**

**11-42**

**Make puppy sit and stay**

**4**

**-CL**

"Let's see…" She mumbled. "Ten. Twelve. Wait. Why is the ten written away from the rest of the message like that?"

"Maybe it has something to do with that picture in the corner." Shawn answered over her shoulder.

"What picture?" She asked herself, trying to ignore the returned closeness of both Shawn and Gus. She spotted a small rectangle with a circle in the middle and a single, straight line drawn from the top of the rectangle.

"It looks like a remote. You know from the cartoons, where you push the button and something blows up. I hope Lassie doesn't blow up."

"Shawn." She heard Gus say as she studied the picture.

"No, it's not a remote. It's a walkie-talkie. There are some faint lines coming from it to express sound. See." She said pointing to the picture.

She read the note again.

Then it clicked and she laughed a little. "Only Carlton would do something like this."

"What is it?"

"It's written in radio code." She said looking up from the paper.

"Radio code?"

"Yea. Every now and then, Carlton and I would have these radio code battles to see who could confuse the other during random conversations. Right now, I'm in the lead." She finished with a smile.

"You are one weird woman, Jules."

She ignored Shawn's comment to look back at the note. "Ok let's see, I'm supposed to add ten in front of the numbers…" Her eyes scanned the note, decoding the numbers. Once her brain realized what the note meant, her face paled. "What?" She whispered, reading over it again.

There was no way she was going to let him do this.

"What is it Jules?" Shawn asked.

"I can't let him do it." She looked at Shawn and Gus.

"Let him do what?" Gus asked.

She turned the note to them.

"10-12," She started, pointing to the numbers as she listed them off, "Is stand by, 10-60: squad in area, 10-44: permission to leave, 10-20: location identification, 10-15: heading to station with suspect, 10-77 is ETA: estimated time of arrival, DOA: dead or alive, 11-42: no ambulance required, and 10-4 is clear. It pretty much means-"

"He wants us to stay here protected while he goes off to some hidden location to confront Leo and bring him in… all by himself." Shawn stated rubbing a hand in his hair.

"And he really wants you to stay away." She added tapping the puppy comment.

"Okay, I'm starting to think that threat at the station wasn't a real threat." She heard Shawn mumble and she gave him a look that said 'I told you so' before walking off to inform the Chief.

* * *

><p>He watched Jules disappear into the hallway before turning to his friend.<p>

"Why does he keep calling me a puppy? I am so much more than some shoe-eating, cuddly ball of fur and energy."

Gus shrugged. "Maybe because you're immature and you keep getting in his way."

He scoffed. "I am not getting in his way. I'm trying to help. Any sane person can see that."

His friend shook his head. "Yea, sane in your dimension."

He ignored the comment with eyes staring at where they had found Jules.

"Something more is going on." He muttered.

"No kidding." Gus answered with a sarcastic tone.

He again ignored his friend. His mind was replaying what happened at the station. "That was not Lassie that walked out of the interrogation room. It was the same one that attacked us." He put a finger to his cheek in thought. "But it was different from the one that ran out of the station with Jules."

"Shawn what are you talking about? That was the same person. Don't tell me you truly believe that Lassiter is possessed."

"No, I don't believe he's possessed." He joked. "Why in the world would I bring it up if I didn't believe it?"

"Because you like bringing up farfetched theories."

"Buddy," He said sweetly throwing an arm over Gus' shoulders and guiding them to the kitchen just as a couple of officers entered heading to the guest room.

"Gus, buddy. Do you remember in the interrogation room when you hit him with that chair?"

"Yea," Gus gulped, softly removing his arm from around his shoulder. "He looked like he wanted to cut off my head."

"Did you notice the color of his eyes?"

"Why would I be worry about his eye color at a time like that? My life was on the line."

"Gus." He whined.

"Okay they were a light color."

"Light as in yellow, right?"

"I guess."

He shook his head. "Okay. When he stepped in the hallway-"

"They were… yellow?"

He nodded. "But after I put that collar around his neck, they were-"

"Green." Gus said in awe.

"Something happened with that collar. There was a switch. Instead of wanting to attack, he wanted to get away."

"Like at the warehouse and the apartments."

"And on the beach." He added softly. He knew he couldn't exactly see the color back then, but he remembered them being a darker than normal color. _"Except when he told me to back off."_

"It's like the eye color is some kind of indicator." His friend added.

Smiling, he nodded his head again.

"But that still doesn't tell us what's going on with Lassiter, whether it's Leo's drugs or some kind of weird possession like you said-"

"And that is why I need to talk to him."

"What!? You just tried that at the station! Are you crazy?!"

"Yup and I know exactly where he is." He smiled before yelling out to get Jules and Chief Vick's attention.

Gus panicked.

"Calm down. If the chief's theory was right." He quickly whispered. "Then he wouldn't have taken the time to talk to Jules, comfort her while she was asleep." He said motioning to the blanket that Jules threw back on the couch and the vase of lavenders. "And send out a text to let us know where she was, especially since she was dead set on not texting me in the first place."

"You didn't say-"

"Well she did." He folded his arms in huff. But his face immediately lit up when Jules appeared back in her living room, followed by the chief.

"Mr. Spencer, what is it?"

"Chief, the spirits are talking." He called out placing a hand to his head. "They know exactly where Lassie is and they want to guide me to him. But we'll have to hurry because I doubt he'll be staying there for very long."

**AN: Now I am going to work very hard to get the next part done by Wednesday. But if I don't, blame it on Lassie. If he sneezes or steps to the left, it changes how everything else plays out. And depending on how this part goes, you may get more or less answers from him. So send him gifts, so he'll cooperate and stop making me travel through fifty million parallel dimensions in fifty million directions with fifty million reactions… **

**My head hurts just thinking about it. **


	36. Ch35 A House of Revolving Answers

**AN: This entire scene, not just this chapter had started a six+ month writer's block. A huge block reinforced with steel and diamond. So I have written like ten different ways this could've gone. I've even written parts further down the road and came back to this, but I think the way below is more suitable to the direction I want to go. *fingers crossed***

He stared at the many objects and two empty, black duffle bags on the table wondering exactly what the next step was.

Earlier, he really didn't have the time or the luxury to think about what to do after he had gotten away from everyone, but now it was quiet, and he was all cleaned and patched up. He still ached and there was a slight tingle in his body that was slowly dwindling, but for once, he had a peaceful moment to himself. He knew Leo was out there in some isolated area, most likely buying time until the heat died down. The same heat that was currently breathing down his neck too.

He glanced at the blinded windows. Bright sunlight was streaming through the cracks.

There were too many things he needed to do and his time was up, but he couldn't stay here to wait for his time to reset. If his memories were correct, it wouldn't take too long before that psychic sensed the way toward his location, and that was something he couldn't let happen…

The tingling flared, and as he pushed away the feeling, his hold tightened around the flower in his left hand. After a brief standoff, it decreased in a huff.

He rubbed his right hand down his face.

He needed to heal completely and set up some kind of balance because in his current state, the psychic's presence would be enough to make him want to let go and break all the restraints.

"_But hopefully the safety of that woman and finding Leo will take priority." _

Making his way over to the table, he set the flower on its surface and started filling one bag with the needed items from the table.

Based on the reaction of just thinking about the annoying 'boy', he knew he needed to get away.

From the city and from everyone in it.

He zipped the bag up and then pulled the unfastened collar from his pocket. His fingers felt along the area near one of the ends and pulled out a long, thin metal key. It shined gold, like it was brand new.

And he had the perfect place in mind.

Smiling a bit at the memories it brought, he pushed the key back into its hiding spot. His eyes fell on the closed lockbox next to the empty bag. He quickly entered the code and turned the key to open the box. The lid hit the table with a dull thump and his smile eased away at seeing what met him. The collar slipped from his fingers and landed on the table next to the special item he couldn't fit in the first bag with the others.

He grabbed the photo gingerly from off the top of loose papers and flopped in the nearby chair to look at it. His mind immediately brought up a simpler time turned unexpectedly harsh and unforgiving.

His lips sharpened downward and his unfocused eyes continued to stare.

He was a fool back then and he was an even bigger fool now to think thirty years of hard rock walls built from stubbornness and blinded eyes would make his reaction to the sudden appearance of this any different. Any less detached.

His thumb unconsciously rubbed the picture softly.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 35 – A House of Revolving Answers <strong>

He knew it was a hunch, but he knew Lassie would be here. Where else would he go in such a short time and in the condition he was in?

His eyes trained on the house a bit down the street.

The curtains were drawn, no lights were visible, and Lassie's car was sitting in the driveway. But that wouldn't tell him if Lassie was in the house or not.

"_Lately, he's been getting around just fine without a vehicle._ _By freaking running and scaling walls."_

It was almost eleven and the sun hadn't hit its peak in the sky yet, but it sure felt like it.

He glanced to his left. Jules and Chief Vick were discussing some important stuff about the mission to the four heavily armored officers armed with nonlethal ammo. The plan was to enter with Jules leading two from the back and the Chief leading the rest from the front. He and Gus, as always, were specifically ordered not to enter until they were told they could enter. He huffed and crossed his arms as he watched everyone rushing to prepare.

"_I want to rush too."_

He allowed just a few minutes to pass before he started to pace on the sidewalk with eyes purely focused on the house.

Gus gave him a weird glance.

He ignored it.

God, he wanted to go in there.

After being thrown, bit, scratched, pushed, and nearly eaten, anyone else would've been like hell no, but he wanted to help. Lassie was a friend and that imposter was in there with all the answers.

And what was he stuck doing…

Standing down the street behind a police car with three uniformed officers as bodyguards. It seemed the chief didn't want to take any chances of him rushing in like he did at Jules' apartment.

He glanced to his right at the only officer he knew of the three.

And by Buzz's posture, he knew his friend was in 'law enforcement' mode and there was nothing he could do or say that would get him sweet access away from the circle and into the house, especially considering what happened at the station and at his apartment (from what he heard Gus say).

"Shawn will you stop that. It's making me dizzy just watching you."

He glared at his friend and settled into leaning on the car next to Gus. He was now facing away from the house and it bothered him.

"I can't believe you're taking this so calmly. Wait… I can." His glare hardened.

"Stop acting like that. You know as well as I do that we could be killed going in there. We all got away without major injury because of pure luck, and with what Chief Vick described happened to Bear who, might I add, is still in critical condition at the hospital…."

"I know. You don't have to say it, but the whole thing is bothering me. I want answers and the spirits are being awfully quiet, now." He pointed to his temples to maintain his psychic act.

He fidgeted a little and then Gus reluctantly held out something to him, which made him stop.

"Here take this."

He looked at Gus' hand. "Ooh, a Snickers."

"I was going to save it for later, but you need it more."

Taking the dark brown package in childish awe, he delicately unwrapped the paper from the chocolate sweetness – with its caramel and peanut-y filling, and took a big bite. It melted in his mouth covering his tongue with a blast of chocolate, peanut, and caramel flavor.

"Mmm… you know this was exactly what I needed. My stomach was rumbling so loud that it had to have caused an earthquake on the other side of the world."

"I'm happy to help." Gus had a smug look on his face.

He raised an eyebrow and took another bite. Slowly he chewed and swallowed.

Then he realized what his friend was doing.

He pushed away from the car. "Gus! I can't believe you would try this on me again!" He threw the leftover piece of candy at his friend, but not before getting another bite.

Gus struggled to catch the object, but failed miserably.

"I am not falling for your diversion." He looked down at the melting brown goo on the pavement. "Although it was a good tasting diversion." He shook his head when his thoughts started to sway again. "No." He exclaimed pointing to his friend. "I'm going in that house."

"Shawn!"

He quickly rounded the car, ran across the street, and past the second line of police cars. He barely touch the grass in front of the house before someone tackled him forward, squishing him under their mighty weight.

"Mr. Spencer what do you think you're doing?" He heard the chief's voice coming his way.

He pulled up his face from the ground and coughed out the grass from his mouth.

"Pull him up."

"Chief." He whined as he was forced to his feet. Chief Vick looked mad and he swallowed the fear to plead with her. "You have to let me go in."

"Mr. Spencer, you know the situation. I can't have you go prancing in there."

"But Chief-"

"No buts. McNab take him back to the safe zone and lock him in the car."

"Yes Ma'am."

He gave Buzz a look of fake betrayal as he was pushed away from the house.

"_I have to get in that house."_ There had to be something he could do to get Lassie back. _"I've messed up so much already."_

He glanced at the chief and the other officers. They were turned away, walking back to their positions.

This was a good enough time as any.

He squared himself, did a quick move (taught by his dad) to get out of the hands holding him, and pushed Buzz over. Buzz stumbled back a ways allowing just enough room for him to slip past and run the few feet up to the door.

In his hurry, he tripped over the slightly raised concrete and tumbled into the door, which easily flew open giving a clear view of the dark interior.

"Shawn!"

"Mr. Spencer!"

"I'm okay." He yelled back, standing up from his position on the floor. His eyes spotted the obvious crack in the door frame where the door was forced in.

"_But not by me."_ His eyes scanned the dark hallway. No movement was seen.

"Get back here!" Chief Vick yelled.

"It's okay." He repeated giving his signature smirk over his shoulder.

"Nothing to worry-"

Then a chill went down his back and he turned his head to look back inside the house.

A thin red beam of light was aimed at his chest. He gulped.

Quickly glancing back at the frozen group on the lawn, he gave another smile before he turned fully to face the inside and threw his hands in the air, exclaiming, "Lassie, buddy!"

The red dot disappeared. He sighed in relief.

"_I guess Jules was right. He doesn't want to hurt us." _He thought to himself as he made to step in, only to be yanked in by his shirt and the door slammed shut behind him.

"What are you doing here, **psychic**?" The question was thrown rather gruffly at him as he was dragged a few feet into the house and pushed against the wall.

He tried to focus on seeing more than just silhouettes, but his eyes were taking their sweet time adjusting to the dark inside.

"Hey, Lassie! How are you doing?" He smiled hiding his obvious fear of not being able to see anything, but still feeling the rough grip on his shirt.

"You just don't understand what **'stay away'** means."

He opened his mouth to answer, but the door burst open shining sunlight on them for a few seconds as three people entered.

"Freeze!" He heard yelled out to his right.

As light parted the darkness, he quickly assessed the green-eyed, 'look-a-like.'

He still refused to think of this person as Lassie, despite the imposter now having a more Lassie look than at the station. Gone were the bloody lab coat and dark pants. In their place was a button up white shirt and dark blue dress pants: Lassie's usual attire (except for the tie and suit jacket) and the guy had the same look of ever-present annoyance that was usually plastered on his friend's face.

"_But it feels off."_ He noted. _"Maybe it's the pale complex-"_

His thoughts were stifled by another rough yank of his shirt.

"You brought them here too." 'Lassie' said gruffly glaring at him.

He cocked his head to the side. "Huh?" There was a hidden sense of panic in the person's voice.

'Lassie' shook his head, mumbling. "The level of your stupidity..."

"Detective Carlton Lassiter."

He glanced toward the front door as 'Lassie' continued to burn holes in his head. Chief Vick and two armored officers stood at the entrance with their weapons drawn. The hallway lights were turned on at some point in time.

"Step away from Mr. Spencer and get on the floor." The chief commanded taking a couple of cautious steps toward them. "We are here to place you in police custody."

He turned back to look at 'Lassie.'

"Don't mind them. They're not even here." He smiled before whispering. "I can get you out of trouble." He patted the hand holding his shirt. "Let's just be civil and have a couch chat."

A few intense seconds passed without either side moving and the detective continued to glare at him.

"Come on, Lass." He pleaded pulling at the tight grip and trying to get the man to let go. "Or… you can do what they say." He continued.

The grip on his shirt tightened and a small scoffing sound escaped 'Lassie's' lips as if to say _"I'm not doing anything they say." _

"Just pick one." He reiterated. "And it would probably be a good idea to-"

"Tell them to leave." Green eyes stared directly into hazel. "Tell them to leave now."

He shook his head. "You know they won't listen-"

The hand grasping his shirt pulled forward. He stumbled a bit as he was quickly turned and an arm wrapped around his neck, allowing just enough room to get air through his windpipe.

His shocked eyes stared at Chief Vick and the officers, who paused in their slow advance.

"Using me as a shield? Really!?" He managed to choke out trying to hide his surprise. "Carly would know better than this with the whole height difference and all…"

"Shut it." He heard behind him, but he continued.

"But you know and I know you're not Lass-"

A quick squeeze to his throat shut the words for him.

"You brought them here. Tell them. To. Leave." The person spoke in his ear and then roughly whispered, "Or I am going to find out how much force it takes to pop your head off."

"You can't be serious!?" He gulped, trying to look back, but the arm kept his head facing forward.

He could practically feel the _"Yup"_ in Lassie's arm as the appendage slowly tensed around his throat.

"Okay, okay." He pulled at the arm. "I'll tell them to leave."

It eased a bit.

He looked at the chief. "He wants everyone to leave and he'll let me go."

Another moment of silence passed through.

"Detective, you know we can't do that." The chief stated. "Just let Mr. Spencer go."

The arm around his neck tensed and started to squeeze.

"Dude, what are you doing?" He choked out trying to pull the arm back.

"I'm doing what needs to be done." 'Lassie' whispered blandly above him as the constriction around his throat tightened.

He clawed at the offending arm as stars dotted his sights.

Suddenly a loud bang resounded through the house. The restrain around his neck jerked loose, but didn't fully leave. Gasping for air, he looked to the side to see Jules, Buzz, and Gus enter through the back door by the kitchen.

A smile crawled across his face at seeing Gus, who quickly ducked into the kitchen out of sight.

"Carlton, you have to stop this right now!" Jules yelled out motioning with her drawn gun.

That smile quickly dipped away at noticing why his friend hid. A red dot was on Jules' forehead.

"Drop it and move away from Shawn or I will shoot!" Jules demanded.

His eyes slid upward to see a black handgun fitted with a laser attachment in the steady right hand of his captor.

* * *

><p>She stared at her disgruntled partner down the sight of her gun.<p>

He stared back from a sideways glanced. His eyes held immense frustration, annoyance, and a hidden murderous glint. The sight was so vaguely different than what she was used to seeing and what familiarity she had picked up on at her apartment that she had a fleeing thought that the person in front of her was not the same person she had worked with for years.

"Didn't I just warn you all to not follow me?" He growled. His attention turned away from her toward the Chief. "Leave now or I will make good on that promise of making something bad happen to a certain someone."

"Carlton." She whispered sadly, seeing his grip on the gun tighten at his threat. A gun aimed directly at her.

"_Is he really going to shoot?"_ She asked herself. _"If he were to shoot, could I shoot back?"_

The weapon in her hand suddenly felt heavy.

**AN: So stuff is ramping up again, and thank Lassie for the added POV at the beginning. That wasn't there before yesterday, which is why the chapter title is placed where it is. Next chapter will be a surprise POV. Maybe from the squirrel sitting outside the window.**


	37. Ch36 A Squirrel in the Tree?

**Chapter 36 – A Squirrel in the Tree?**

Dark brown eyes watched the bustle of movement on the ground as she sat and ate her snack.

She wasn't one to take extra care in watching what happens on the ground, unless she needed to change scenery in a hurry. But the movement was happening in her region, around her kids, and around her family. And the added fact that the happenings were focused on **that** shelter was a most definite cause for her attention. Anything happening there was never good. It was one of the reasons most of them avoided the area.

"_Well, the ones that was smart enough to not follow through with the dare."_

She shook her head at the idea one of her cousins had thought of.

"_Fame, servants, and all the food you want. Just stay within the border when the sun rises until the sun rises again."_ She thought, replaying the declaration. _"Extra points if you can stand next to Sicarius for thirty seconds."_ She paused in snacking. _"Sicarius…" _

That human was strange. Way stranger than other humans.

"_Especially when he is in a foul mood and he is carrying that telum that can kill kinfolks without touching them."_

She shivered at the thought of the sound it creates. The loud boom. It was worse than the large machines humans like to travel in. But there was something ten times worse than either of those combined prowling around that shelter.

"_When the sun hides underground and sound refuses to make noise," _she recited part of the tale she told to scare kids. _"It appears covered in darkness and says 'Come play with me' with curious eyes glittering like stars and sharp claws hiding in the dark grass. And before you can say 'Yes,' it is already breaking your neck and eating your insides." _

She looked at the food in her hands. The story was a little morbid and it could easily be describing something as common as a cat. But she knew, along with a few others who have seen it and survived, that it was worse. Much worse.

She pushed the somber thought away to continue her nibbling.

She remembered a time when it was okay to cross that line and wander in the dark, but that was a long time ago when the area was actually peaceful and tame. And Sicarius had a coniux around.

Sudden movement down below stopped her thoughts. While watching, she broke off the outer shell and dropped it to the ground. Her tail did two quick twitches signaling to her cousins living in neighboring trees.

"Stay where you are." She signed while still snacking.

There was no reason to panic and put everyone in danger because of what was happening. She knew no one in their right mind would accidently cross the border around the shelter, even with the temptation to see the happenings up close and in the safety of the sun when the silent prowling was entirely absent.

She continued watching and waiting as the movement on the ground converged on the one shelter. She could hear the yelling, but really didn't understand all the noise.

Humans were so strange and loud.

She grabbed a pinecone and began to chew on it. She soon found it too hard to crack and dropped the useless thing. Something below yelled out, but her thoughts were on finding something tasty to eat. She scurried across and up to a higher branch in the tree. Tasty snacks were always at the top. She just had to hurry before that hawk flying around decided it was hungry.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 36.5 – A Lion in the Woods<strong>

"_Nothing went as planned…"_

Even though he never really had a plan to begin with.

"_Curiosity is a selfish thing that only cares about satisfying itself." _

And curiosity was what attached itself to his brain and made his initial plans do a complete one-eighty.

"_Science is also a fickle thing." _

And having both science and curiosity in the same room usually made everything perform in unexpected ways. Just like his non-existing plans. At the house he would've never expected ninety percent of what happened to actually happen.

"_But you were a little too cocky for your own good."_

He huffed at the thought before sitting at the table in his kitchen and listing what went wrong in his head.

"_The detective was supposed to try and save that psychic by himself._ _Lassiters always had a knack for being loner types."_ He had seen it in Charles, both of his sons, and in the grandsons. Instead he bought his partner to start up the compassion triangle that added warmth to the usual thick veil of ice.

"_The detective was supposed to give into the condition and kill that nosy, psychic brat."_ Instead he forced it away like an annoying bug, which again didn't equal up to what he expected. _"Because frankly, Lassiters were known for their uncontrollable anger."_ Anger: a subtle trigger to the condition. A thing he didn't have trouble with until Charles' interference.

"_Lastly the detective was supposed to lose total control, get himself killed, and be blamed for all the murders."_ The murders he sent Bear and Fox to execute to help them control and pacify their own conditions.

In reiterating, nothing went as planned.

Feeling a little despondent, he allowed his sights to wander the kitchen before deciding that good ideas were not going to come to his racing mind.

"Let's see what's on the tube. It always stops my mind from thinking."

The digital clock on the microwave read 11:47 am. He leaned forward and grabbed the remote from across the table to turn on the TV that was sitting on the counter.

Watching the black box was never his thing. He would rather be learning something new in the lab or reading.

"_People would be smarter if they had never invented the thing." _He huffed.

The only reason it was in the house was because the others would've bug the hell out of him and he wouldn't have been able to get any work done. Riley was exposed at an early age to its mind numbing properties, but he was surprised the two wandering orphans knew anything about the picture box.

He smiled a bit at the memory of their first meeting before flipping through channel after channel. Nothing interesting caught his attention until….

"_**Exclusive Breaking News: Only here on Channel 2." **_

A blond reporter appeared with a red-roofed building in the background.

"_**This is Patricia Halls on scene at the Santa Barbara Police station. As you can see behind me, the place is buzzing with unusual activity this morning, but it's not just about the recent capture of three suspects for the Parma killings. Something else happened inside the usually secure facility." **_

The scene changed to showcase an earlier event, where many police cars were seen leaving the station with flashing lights and officers were standing outside guarding the entrance to the station.

"_**From inside sources, a person entered the station around two this morning. An altercation occurred between the person and one of the Parma Park suspects. During which, the person was able to injure four officers, critically injure the suspect, and then escape out the back of the station. During the commotion, the other suspect for the killings disappeared. The third suspect is still in custody at the hospital."**_

The camera panned back to the blond reporter.

"_**There hasn't been any reports as of yet, discussing how this person was able to bypass security, but it seems the assault is connected to the events of how the suspects were captured, where an officer was shot and killed last night while trying to free a hostage and a fellow officer.**_

_**Police are now in the process of finding this lone person who caused the disturbance and locating the missing suspect. If you have any information, please contact the Santa Barbara Police Department at- Wait a moment…"**_

The reporter looked away for a moment before turning back to the camera.

"_**We just got new information. The injured suspect from the assault has just passed away."**_

"What! Bear's dead." He jumped up staring unbelieving at the reporter. His chair almost toppled over. The reporter continued on completely unaware of the person watching her through the camera's lens.

"Bear's dead." He repeated.

Not wanting to hear anymore, he clicked off the TV and threw the remote against the wall. It shattered into pieces.

"Bear can't be dead." He mumbled looking at his hands. They were trembling and he forced himself to think about something else before he felt the need to destroy something bigger. "I told that fool not to use it and he used it on the wrong person. It was made for him and him alone."

He rubbed a hand down his face and flopped back in the chair.

It was a very small (almost unnoticeable) accident that happened because of Bear's stupidity and slow reflexes. Fox was always the faster and smarter one of the two brothers. Now the police had one of his booster guns and he had to use the syringe to hide the identity of the drug.

"_Well it did help me break out, along with that helpful distraction."_

He balled his hands into fists.

Within a couple of days, he had lost two companions, who he regarded as sons. His daughter was lying in the hospital from a deep wound in her stomach and there was no way for him to see her. Not under current circumstances. He couldn't risk getting caught again.

"_All because of that wolf in sheep's clothing. A wolf that would not die."_

But he knew that neither the gunshot nor the stab wound would be enough to end Lassiter's life. It was a perk of the condition. A perk he himself went through a long time ago; a perk that made him nonexistent because technically he was dead to the world. And if he wasn't so busy checking on Riley at the time, he would've gone over, pulled the knife from the detective's stomach, and ended his misery with a deep stab in the head for hurting his daughter.

He stood up and threw his chair at the TV. The screen cracked and the TV toppled to the tiled floor, shattering. Pieces of black plastic and glass intermixed with wood from the splintered chair.

"_That felt good."_

His body was starting to itch with energy. He left the kitchen and entered the den. His eyes immediately fell on the giant flat screen mounted on the wall. He started to pace in front of it. His socked feet slid a little on the wooden floor.

That stuff was still in his system, the same stuff that was made specifically for Lassiter. He tried to push down the anger, but it sat on the forefront of his mind, waiting like the predator it was.

"_I need to concentrate on something else."_ He stopped pacing and looked around.

There were so many things to break and he shook his head at the idea because he would eventually have to pay to replace the broken items. This was his house in retrospect, but under a pseudo name. It was his money (through his daughter) and his brain that supplied all of the stuff here, all the gadgets and chemicals… all the trips…

"_That trip to Brazil was extremely relaxing, running in the rainforest with not a care in the world. I understand why the grandson ran there. I'll have to make sure to go there again after all this is over."_

Thinking about Brazil, he sighed in content before sitting on the couch.

"…"

Taking a couple of deep breaths, his mind felt clearer and he leaned back looking at the wooden ceiling.

"_Time to revamp and make a new plan. One that the detective won't be able to get out of."_

His initial plan had been to drag out this Lassiter from his hiding spot in the police force with the murders. He didn't expect the guy to show up during one of their hunts nor did he expect Bear to react in such a territorial way, which resulted in Bear getting his ass handed to him and Fox dying in a move to protect his younger brother.

"_A clean slash to the throat was all it took." _

That night his fury had overran his natural curiosity and he immediately had set a plan to get revenge. He wanted to outright kill the detective and his partner in that warehouse, but frankly the curiosity that had just earlier whispered the inconsistencies in the normal behavior of the condition had started yelling and he couldn't help himself from testing the detective to see if he was faking, hiding who he really was. And again he had expected the detective to drop the act because his partner was unconscious and he was figuratively backed into a corner.

"_But he wasn't acting."_

He could see it in his eyes, in his posture, and in the way he reacted to Bear. It was genuine. The detective didn't know what was going on.

And it confused the hell out of him.

So in his confusion, he decided to go a step further… to actually triggering the condition.

He had thought loosening the chains would work in his favor. Maybe result in his pretty partner getting killed, and with the blood on his hands, the detective would get blamed for both murders.

But it didn't.

Because the detective acted nothing like how the father or the brother had acted or the many others he ran across when it was triggered. They were wild and uncontrollable, just like the condition's name. But it was like the detective had immense control over his actions, yet at other times had absolutely no control over his actions, but still managed to somehow command it.

"Like at the house." He reminded himself.

Those dark eyes looking at him like he was some insignificant bug that wasn't worth a millisecond of time.

His hands tightened around the edge of the couch cushion.

"_You're too weak, Leo."_ That **Lassiter** had the nerve to say.

"_I am __**not**__ weak."_ He spat. _"And I will show you why I'm still alive and not buried six feet in the ground like some of your cursed relatives." _His mind pulled up an image of that condescending look Charles had given him right before the man ruined his career and his life. "_But unlike your relatives, you won't have the luxury of a cushy coffin. I will make sure of that." _

He relaxed a bit at the thought of what he would do and pried his fingers from the cushion of the couch he sat at. White fluff puffed out of the cuts in the material. He looked at his hands with raised eyebrows. Blackened nails sharpened to a point covered the top of his fingers. He watched them slide back underneath the cuticle revealing normal peachy, fingernails.

He smiled wiggling his fingers.

That would never get old.

He leaned back and stared at his darkened reflection in the flat screen TV on the wall. His mind immediately noted the differences. He pushed the flood of information to the back of his thoughts. "_Cataloging and making notes would come later._" Now, he needed to focus on editing his procedure.

The scientist in him couldn't allow for such an unusual specimen to slip through his hands. If anything, he needed samples and data. He needed to pick the detective apart and see how he worked. What made him like that and how was he able to live a normal life with no one knowing his true self? Not even his wife, well now ex-wife, knew (he had found out). How was he was able to cope with the bloodlust?

He still found himself struggling with it, every now and then.

"_Well maybe not struggling with it."_ A shadow of smile showed a bit at the thought before dipping away.

So in order to find out the answers to those questions and study him further, he kept up the fake deal trying to see how this Lassiter would react; how far he could push before the real monster would show.

And he got the start of his answer at that house.

Sitting in the cell had allowed the emotional tide of seeing his daughter hurt to wean away into nothingness and with that nothingness clearing his head, he could now see that the detective didn't have complete control over the condition as he had thought. Bear's slip-up had cost his life, but it gave him a clean enough window to see the cracks in the steel wall. He saw a weakness that he could pick at. A weakness that could help the uncontrollable monster from within break its chains and hit the surface with a splash, no with a tsunami, destroying everything in its path.

And if the glimpse of what happened at the station was a testimony, then…

"_Deep down, he might just be worse than Ethan."_

A smirk spread across his face as pieces of a plan started to come together.

And what better way to kill two birds with one stone then to pit two Lassiters against each other, since that psychic was so kind as to give the identity to the last of Charles' spawn.

He already knew where she was.

A quick search yesterday through the stolen Santa Barbara police files he paid for was enough to give contact numbers and an address. Now all he had to do to start the plan was to get her here, back in Santa Barbara and in his possession.

And with help from the news, he would have her rushing right to him.

His smirk widened into a toothy smile.

**AN: The beginning of this chapter was sparked by a 'challenge' from nurzubesuch. She thought it was funny that I really do it. I absolutely had no intention to write out that POV, but it just wanted to come out and it helped clear my head a bit. So there it is, even if it did take some time to get it done on top of trying to complete the hectic chapter 37 (which is not done btw). **

**Also, I have no comment about 36.5. Lassie doesn't know about that part of the chapter and he will NOT know about that part of the chapter. So… *pulls out pocket watch and swings it from side to side* Go watch the squirrels in the tree. Chapter 36.5 was never here. See the squirrels eat. Chapter 36.5 doesn't exist. Now go back to doing what you do. All Happy-like.**


	38. Ch37 A House of Moving Shadows

**AN: Sorry this took so long to update. One of the characters was really giving me a hard time. So much so that I just wanted to throw out his part in the entire scene, but I couldn't. Tried it and it didn't work out so favorably for me. Even with him in, it ended up not working so favorably for the other characters. So I tried writing different angles and switching stuff around. It made my head hurt. Then I got a bit distracted by life to clear my head, and came back. Now I have two chapters (that were originally four) fully written. Just some details need to be sorted out for the next chapter. **

**Thanks to Jesse for helping me make the chapter decision. Although, I didn't post it as one huge chapter like you told me. I think putting 8,000 words to read in one sitting is a little too much. So two it is. And thanks to Nurzubesuch for sending me a message to get my butt to update.**

**And for a change, I'm trying not to confuse anyone, which is another reason for the timing update. So as a heads up: There's a LOT of POV changes. Hopefully you'll be able to follow. If not… just send a message my way and I'll clear it up as much as possible.**

**Chapter 37 – A House of Moving Shadows**

"_Sometimes having a stronger reflex is so annoying."_ He mentally groaned. It was the reason he hated surprises with a passion.

His finger laid lightly on the trigger of the custom-made black handgun fitted with a red laser attachment. Its muzzle pointed at the younger blond, who initiated a similar reaction to the one done earlier by the psychic in his hold. The specs of the weapon filtered to the forefront of his mind unwanted. He quickly pushed them away. He could care less for the item in his hand, but seeing that it one of _his_ special babies he had to be extra careful.

"_Maybe it'll ruffle his feathers to see it get used this way."_

He huffed a bit at not getting any reaction from the mental comment.

He never meant for the stakes to be raised this high this quickly, but he had to say this was a pretty good way to get his point across. Their flat refusal to leave him alone was putting all of them in unneeded danger and they needed to leave because he couldn't.

Not at this time.

Not like this.

His eyes glanced at the sunlit carpet.

Despite his overall calm appearance,

…Waking up in immense pain on a steel table in the hospital morgue,

(which happened to be the third time he ended up in the cold, dead area with the overwhelming, nose-burning chemical stench. _"Stupid hospitals and their incompetent staff. Don't know the difference between no heartbeat and a low heartbeat." _He mentally huffed.)

…Maintaining peace,

("_Although they did finally agree on something_ _while I was off pouting and acting like a spoiled child."_ He grumbled internally. _"Too bad that agreement led to some unwanted attention."_)

…Getting shot twice and stabbed once,

(which wasn't the worst by far, but it was up there, along with being strangled and losing the ability to walk for a few days after jumping off a cliff. But then again those weren't listed in the number one spot either.)

…And getting distracted by the past…

He shook his head of the thoughts that brought.

They were all starting to take their toll.

His vision fluttered out of focus and the room dimmed, unnoticed by the people standing around him. He could feel a slight sense of bodily detachment that was making it extremely difficult to keep a certain impulse from taking over. He cursed softly when his arm reflexively tensed around his hostage and wouldn't let go.

"_Why in the hell did I think it was a good idea to grab the psychic?"_

Taking a couple of slow breaths through his mouth, he pushed at the wall of dangerous feelings. It didn't budge. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he tightened his hold on the gun as his mind immediately turned to filter through the weapon's specs again.

"…_Beretta M9A1 with specialized red laser point, 9mm, gold encased, fifteen rounds, 2.125 pounds, can hit a target forty feet… fifty on a good day…"_

Slowly the room and his vision return to normal, and his arm relaxed enough to be manageable.

He mentally sighed. It seemed that concentrating on the comforting weight in his hand was like keeping that flower around. He wondered why.

"_I guess trading one dangerous weapon for another has its benefits."_

He heard the small shuffle of a rifle and he looked over at the armored officer on the left. The weapon was raised and aimed, waiting for the signal. The other officer matched the movement.

His eyes turned to look at the older blond, waiting for her to give the go-ahead to the men flanking her sides. She stared back unmoving. Her eyes were almost pleading for him to give up. He frowned. Submitting was definitely not on his agenda and it seemed leaving was not on theirs either.

"_This is so annoying. These people need to leave."_

He let his eyes quickly scan everyone in the room taking in every little movement, every detail they involuntarily presented.

The younger blond stood defiantly in front of his sights with that fire he was getting used to seeing. The tall officer next to her was nervous. He could see that quite clearly.

"_Why is he even here?"_ He asked himself. _"He wouldn't be able to shoot a horse up close with hands shaking like that."_

The psychic's friend, peeking from the kitchen, was scared too. But he held a slight determination in his dark eyes that was only over-powered by the psychic's own determined look, who only goal was to free 'Carlton' from his grip, a grip that was entirely nonexistent.

"_For a psychic, he is really clueless to who and what he's messing with."_ He scoffed at the thought.

He wasn't cruel or anything. He just did what needed to be done. All the dirty stuff. If the situation called for something drastic to be done, he would do it. That was what made his purpose all the more important. Because without the set precautions, the past would repeat itself.

In a big way.

A darkened scene overlaid the room for a quick second before returning to normal. His eyes stayed staring at where the brief image of his downfall stood with a sarcastic smirk planted on his face.

His finger unconsciously twitched around the rigid trigger. Frowning, he forced back the sudden urge and focused purely on the older blond woman.

There wasn't a real threat of the gun going off. It wasn't loaded and the safety was on for extra measure. But that fact wouldn't stop the slow-developing desire from what he just saw because he knew deep down that none of them had fully learned the crucial lesson from revenge.

"_I just had to find that picture."_

* * *

><p>"Put the gun down, Detective." The Chief ordered. "This is your last chance."<p>

She stole a quick glance at Chief Vick. Her boss stood firm, but she could see the ever slight tremble in her stone frame. It seemed the Chief was trying to figure out the best option to end the situation peacefully, but they had to do something quick. Because if Carlton was suffering from some drug Leo concocted, like both Gus and Chief Vick were theorizing, then restraining or physically knocking him out were the only options. However if Shawn's theory was right (which she highly doubt it) and this was someone that was trying to replace her partner, then neutralizing shots could be included in the options, along with tasers (which earlier proved to have little effect on him anyway).

But despite all the theories in the world, she knew and felt that whoever this was (whether it was her partner or not) held a soft spot for her and her alone. So just maybe she could get him to calm down enough to bring back rationale.

And plus she knew why he was acting so hostile toward them.

"_He's only pushing us awa_y,_ so we won't be in danger when Leo is around."_

Her grip loosened.

There was no way any one of them would step back and let a friend willingly face danger single-handedly, especially if that danger was someone like that psycho Leo.

She took a deep breath preparing herself.

* * *

><p>Silence fell as the standoff continued.<p>

Chief Vick and her group on one side and Jules and Buzz on the other. All guns (except one) trained on 'Lassie' and him in his clutches. This looked like a lose-lose situation for the head detective.

"_So why isn't he giving up?"_ He asked.

"_Because he is the most stubborn person ever and can't accept surrender without a fight."_ He answered himself.

He sighed before letting his mind fly through a million scenarios. All of them involved getting that handgun out of Lassie's hand and then hopefully incapacitating him some way to get some answers. But that was easier said than done, especially since the gun was still aimed at Jules' head.

"_Well nothing gets done standing still. But what can I do?"_

He glanced at Gus for reassurance, or tried to, with his friend standing away behind cover to avoid the potential firefight.

Then he saw **that** look on Jules' face.

"_What is she about to do?"_ He asked.

He hoped it wasn't something drastic, but that look said drastic. He couldn't let her put herself in anymore danger. If anything he needed to get the attention back on him. Taking in a sharp intake of breath, he quickly went over what parts of his talks with Riley and Leo he was going to reveal. Just maybe the shock of it will stun Lassie long enough to restrain him. And hopefully revealing some pieces will shed some light on this situation.

Faking a shiver, he started to close his eyes.

* * *

><p>She relaxed, standing straight and allowing her gun to hit her thigh. The Chief shot her a fleeing wave of concern. She ignored it. Her full attention was on her partner.<p>

"Dropped the gun and let go of Shawn, Carlton." She repeated with soft fervor.

Her partner silently glared.

"I know you want to take down Leo, but continuing that deal and pushing us away is not how to go about it." She saw his face relaxed slightly. "I won't let you confront him by yourself. We are all here for you and want to take him down just as much as you do. So you are going to have to shoot me and everyone in this room to keep us from helping you."

She took a step forward.

* * *

><p>His eyes widened at Jules' defiant act. It was placing her right in harm's way with no escape. He couldn't allow that and with the way the arm around his neck kept tensing, he could sense that 'Lassie' was ready to do whatever it took to get them away from him.<p>

Maybe not shoot Jules in the head, but something that would lead to some major recover time for someone.

"_Time to act and stop thinking." _

* * *

><p>"Go ahead." She demanded and then added barely above a whisper. "Because I don't want to see you hurt."<p>

She saw something shift in his eyes and noticed his finger relax off the trigger.

"_Time to act."_

* * *

><p>"<em>I never wanted to see you hurt."<em> He remembered it being said a long, long time ago.

The room darkened considerably and a few red-orange leaves fluttered pass him. He ignored them to stare at the younger blond; her image warped and flickered like a dying flame to something.

No, not something… Someone. Someone familiar.

He shook his head… Or tried to.

It stayed staring straight.

"…_Never want to hurt…"_

Ghost fingers laid softly on his right forearm, making his arm lower slightly.

"_Don't worry; it's not your fault."_ She had said in comfort looking up at him with her dark hair fanned out.

"_But it is."_ His shoulders slumped at the memory. _"It will always be_ my fault."

A deep feeling of regret settled in his stomach and he was finally able to look away. Thick branching shadows were crawling across the wall and he watched them spread in an almost diluted panic.

"_That's not good." _He thought, trying to push away the flood of emotions it brought, but the torrent kept building around him, reminding him of his failures and that time was strained on protecting the people in front of him from-

A sudden sharp jolt of pain traveled through his body from an elbow being thrust into his side. As he hunched over from the hit, his weapon was forced out of his hand and a quick head butt to the face made him stumble back. Stars glittered in his sight and he grasped the left side of his face.

Dark brown hair flashed dirty blond.

Shock quickly filtered to anger as he reached out with his right to pull back his escaping hostage.

His hand caught the psychic's arm, but a shift in the air made him let go as he stepped back to dodge a tackle aimed to take him to the floor. As the shocked attacker barreled in front of him, he quickly grabbed the back of the attacker's shirt, countering the man's momentum with a quick pull and push that sent him flying into a nearby tree.

Pinning the man to the rough surface with a weighted left hand on the shoulder, he used him as leverage to unleash his own attack: a heavy punch aimed directly at the face.

"_What are you doing?"_

Everything slowed to a crawl. His fist continued on its path.

"_Stop this right now!"_

His attacker was trying to maintain a brave front. But he could see the pain streaking on his face, along with the shadow of his fist growing closer to its target.

"_You don't have to protect me." _

The older blond was reaching to stop his right hand.

"_I'll protect myself! Now stop this!"_

Dark hair and clear green eyes appeared in front of him.

* * *

><p>He watched the confrontation like seeing two cars about to hit head on. He couldn't look away nor could he make his muscles move to intervene. Chief Vick and Jules were both moving to pull the detective off of Buzz.<p>

"_So why am I not doing that?"_ He had asked himself.

But then the punch stopped inches away from Buzz's face. It made everyone else pause in their run. Even Gus peeked out from the mini bar counter that separated the kitchen from the den, where they were.

He could see the question in everyone's head.

"_Did he find himself?"_

* * *

><p>A small breeze blew through ruffling his clothes and hundreds of fall leaves fluttered all around them.<p>

His hands dropped to his side. His widened eyes stared in sadness.

She looked just like the last time he had seen her.

The purple sweater with the matching gloves she loved to wear, the dark colored jeans with the small tear in the left knee from when she fell off her bike that one time, the black tennis shoes with scruff marks on the front because she liked to kick in the dirt, the gold bracelet he gave her on her birthday when he had enough money saved from his allowance, the light covering of dirt and leaves sticking out of her clothes, along with the splash of bright color against her pale skin…

He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he knew he couldn't.

He didn't deserve to.

And then he heard a familiar laugh echo behind him.

"The pipsqueak is gonna let a girl fight his battles."

He didn't have to turn around to know who it was and his right hand tightened with newly acquired hatred.

She shook her head, motioning for him to not do anything.

"No. This is my fight. It's the only way to stop this." He turned away from her. "And to save you." He softly added.

He took a second to stare down the blond-haired boy across from him. The boy's red shirt with a faded blue star logo shone brightly against the night. Darkened trees stood around them, their leaves crinkling with the chilled wind.

Everything had started because of him and he wanted to wipe that smug look off the bully's face permanently. A familiar energy grew within him and he let out a deep growl to release it before his legs pushed him forward. He grew closer and threw a punch. Ignoring the sharp protest from his chest, he smiled when he saw those dark brown eyes widened in disbelief.

And then he went straight through the boy.

He turned to stare in shock. The blond boy looked back at him. The previous look of disbelief quickly settled into amusement before he laughed again and disappeared into black mist. The laugh continued and he looked around frantically as it quickly deepened and turned dark in its tone.

_"It looks like the warden is having trouble keeping things in perspective."_ A growling voice mused from the surrounding thick vegetation. His eyes widened in recognition as he continued to scan the dark trees and thick bushes.

"_And was_ _trying to break my toy. How cute." _It scoffed from his left.

He slowly turned following the voice as it moved in the dark.

_"But that's alright; I can help you finish revisiting the past." _

The bushes to his right moved. He turned.

_"Which part would you like to finish playing?" _

He stayed silent with eyes still scanning.

_"Come on. Pick one." _It said in a sarcastic plead. _"Do you need a reminder of the available parts?"_

The branches above him shook and orange leaves started to flutter to the ground. His eyes immediately caught the dark splashes on the bright color floating down and he quickly turned his focus back to the trees and bushes.

"No thanks." He called out, pushing away all the built up anxiety. "I'll stay where I am."

He saw something dart in the darkness.

_"But you play the other character so well. You know the one." _Its voice lightened. _"It's not your fault. I wasn't strong enough. I shouldn't have-" _

He frowned. "And you play quiet lap dog so well. Why don't you go back to that?"

_"Quiet lap dog."_ It growled with deep contempt.

He saw a flash of light before something large and black flew by his head and disappeared back into the thick vegetation behind him. The slight breeze of its path ruffled his clothes and hair, but he stood straight and still, showing no fear at the display.

"What was that supposed to do?" He asked.

Suddenly, he felt stinging on his cheek and he rubbed the area with a hand.

_"And it gets better."_ He heard it purred happily behind him.

He couldn't hide the complete surprise from his face at the sight of blood on his hand. His blood.

He looked back at the bushes and trees. He could see a silhouette of something crouched low under a tree. Gold appeared in the darkness.

_"You had to have known_ _restricting me with that stupid thing wasn't going to last." _It smiled. _"Now I think it's best if you go back to where you belong. Say hi to everyone down there for me."_

It darted out of the bushes toward him with sharp claws aimed at his neck.

Tightening his blood-smeared hand into a fist, he looked on with unwavering eyes as the thing, cloaked in moving shadows, jumped at him. He was unsurprised to find its clawed hand stopped inches from their target by an invisible barrier.

Its sharp teeth clenched in irritation and its gold eyes heated with fury.

"How can you believe a little scratch is going to scare me or make me forget you can't really hurt me?" He asked glaring at the frozen figure. "Don't answer that. I liked it better when you didn't talk."

It growled and used its other claw to try to push pass the barrier.

Faking a yawn, he looked around enjoying the gentle breeze that flew by.

This was a dance they used to do a long time ago. He hated to admit, but he missed the thrill of being challenged all those years ago and the ultimate gratification of watching it finally submit and flinch away from his presence, considering it used to be the other way around. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't flinching away like last time. Maybe he needed to remind it of who was boss.

He glanced at his hand. Blue sparks jumped along his fingertips and he reached out to touch the left claws. Before he made contact, its growl turned into a snarl and he felt the barrier waver. There was just enough time for him to dodge the claws as they broke completely through to finish their course. He looked back watching it skid across the ground leaving deep gouges in its wake. His jaw tightened at the thought of how messy and painful that would've been.

Then he realized.

None of this should be happening. It was too strong, too aware to still have the collar-

His eyes caught a brief sighting of the device. It was still in place, but it had deteriorated exponentially. White crack crisscrossed its frame and it was jagged along its edges.

_"I hate this thing."_ He heard it mumble as it pulled at the device around its neck. Black pieces were crumbling from its tugging.

"That's definitely not good." He muttered.

It paused in pulling and looked at him with a slight smirk on its face.

_"Don't look so surprise. He gave me a little help with it, so I could do what he wants." _Gold glowed with hidden glee. _"Your plan was working too slowly."_

His eyes narrowed. "You know where he is?" He called out, not moving from his spot. The 'help' obviously did more than just give it some awareness back, so there was no telling what it was capable of now. His muscles tightened a bit at remembering what underestimating it could do.

It shrugged at his question. "_He's around here, somewhere."_ Gold smiled with sharp teeth showing. _"Despite the help and all, I just couldn't let the opportunity to give him a taste of what he did to me slip away."_

He gritted his teeth at the thoughts floating in his head.

_"Well, it's been fun dabbling in the past."_ It stood up fully, taking a more humanoid appearance as the shadows retreated from its form. Gold glanced at him. _"But I need something with more substance in the present. Bye."_ In the blink of an eye, it disappeared leaving a bit of leaves floating down where it stood and a gentle wave of parted branches.

It took him a second to realize the meaning.

"You better not." He yelled running toward where it had disappeared. He pushed though the tree branches and straight through the open door there. The surrounding woods melted into a dark, dank hallway full of black doors with different shapes and sizes. Dark brown brick lined the walls in an erratic matter and a couple of pieces were lying on the ground.

He looked around. No one was there and it was eerily quiet.

"Damn it." His voice echoed down the hallway.

He knew where it went and if it could get out like last time, then they were in trouble.

Especially if it was aware.

His best bet was to cut its access at the source. He glanced to the right and left, scanning for anything different. He could feel something over his right, but it was very faint. He took off down the hallway running as fast as possible.

He hoped it was what he had been looking for because he couldn't live with himself, if the past were to repeat.

**AN: If you guessed which character gave me a hard time (and still is), keep it to yourself or you can tell me. I don't care. He is pissing me off, slowing down my process, and making me do more work. I don't like doing more work. *groans* He needs a beating.**

**Anyway I think the next chapter will be liked. Now let me go clear the voices in my head, so I can focus on getting those details straight to post on Wednesday.**


	39. Ch38 Emotional Torrent: Code YellowBlue

**AN: I know I said Wednesday like a few weeks ago, but life happens and weaving the POVs in this scene was one huge project by itself. All in all, everything took way more time than I thought. And I don't think I did a good job of taming that one character. *shrugs* I guess there's more entertainment for you. **

**Also thanks to those that continued to send me messages to get me updating. **

**The warning about POV confusion is still in effect and now come with flashing red lights and waving flags. **

**Chapter 38 – Emotional Torrent: Code Yellow-Blue**

"_I am an officer first and a friend second."_

That's what they had tried to drill in his head at the academy.

"_Officer first. Friend second."_

He had debated it from the beginning.

"But wasn't being an officer like being a reliable friend to strangers?" He had asked one day to his training superior. "Complete strangers didn't help other complete strangers through their disputes. They didn't comfort complete strangers during their time of need or work so hard to capture those that caused the stress. Nor would complete strangers risk their life for each another."

His superior had looked at him, giving an almost pitiful look before answering, "Being a friend means you trust the people around you enough to help them. That, McNab, will get you killed. As an officer, we are trained to leave emotion; the need to trust, behind, so the job will get done and get done properly." He opened his mouth to argue, but the officer had quickly added. "And frankly, emotions make you reckless. Extremely reckless."

There were some other words his training officer had said, but the thing that had stuck was 'emotions make you reckless.' Not that it really sunk in his head, though.

His brown eyes looked at his current superior, who had him pinned to a bookcase.

There were so many emotions flying through the man's unfocused green eyes that it was hard to grasp the idea that just half a day ago the same man (with blue eyes) rarely showed anything of himself.

He had personally told the detective, after one very infamous case, that he was a robot.

A machine.

Something that had no heart, no feelings. That just did what it was programmed to do and nothing else and the detective had taken it as a compliment before walking away as indifferent as ever.

It had amazed him.

"_You are an officer first."_

No one else in the department had taken the saying to heart like the detective. Maybe that was why he was Head Detective.

But there were other head detectives in other stations that seemed comfortable enough to be work-friendly. So why was Detective Lassiter like this? Why did the detective keep everyone at arm's length?

He always wondered, but was too scared to ask.

Now with all these strange events happening around the Head Detective, he didn't know what to think.

He saw the flood of emotion stop on one: anger. It was a mood he was used to seeing from the detective, but this wasn't that annoyance anger, or even an anger used to cover up the previous emotion he had seen flash through the man's eyes.

No. This was a deep, seething anger filled with an icy hatred: a strong emotion that filled him with such intense dread that he couldn't breathe; he couldn't move; he couldn't even think.

All he could do was stare into those swirling colors in the detective's eyes.

It felt like days before blank indifference replaced the swelling fury and he found the heavy weight lifted, along with the pressure on his shoulder.

Not waiting, the officer in him quickly grabbed the relaxed arm on his shoulder and pulled down as he moved from the broken bookcase to stand behind the detective. With wrist still in hand, he pushed the man against the wall next to the bookcase. He quickly handcuffed one wrist and then the other with the handcuffs Chief Vick handed him. Detective Lassiter stayed leaning against the wall in an apparent daze.

After the coffee table was moved and a clean sweep of the couch was done to check for weapons, he was ordered to make Detective Lassiter sit.

A pat on the back from Chief Vick let the events catch up to his brain and he eased out the breath he had been holding. He wanted to smile at the small appreciation from the Chief, but it didn't feel right to express happiness. Not when it was his mentor bounded and handcuffed. There was a dense air of uncertainty hanging around, keeping everyone on edge. Even Shawn looked serious, for once.

He looked at the Head Detective. The man's head was bowed staring at some spot on the floor. Red was very slowly dripping on the carpet in front of him from he had to guess a busted lip or broken nose. He couldn't tell.

"McNab."

"Yes ma'am." He answered, trying to block out the guilt of hurting the detective for a few seconds.

"Go tell the medics to get ready for transport. I'll send word to you when they can come in."

He nodded and then turned to leave the house. He gave Detective O'Hara, Shawn, and Gus a brief, troubled look before exiting the house.

He didn't know what to think about this situation. He knew the detective could've hurt him very badly if he wanted to.

"_But he didn't."_ He thought. _"Why?"_

His mind immediately brought up the deep sadness and guilt that flashed across the Head Detective's face, along with the whispered words 'to save you' right before the paralyzing hatred showed and quickly dissipated.

To save who.

He knew it wasn't him that the detective was saving and it did validate that the detective was sacrificing himself in some way to stop Leo. It was a noble act and it made his chest puff out to think he was working under such a dignified person. But something was seriously wrong with everything. It was just way too easy to restrain the detective; a person he had seen portrayed both super strength and speed.

"_I think that was super speed."_ He thought, thinking about what happened at the parking lot and the interrogation hall.

He rubbed his sore left arm and shrugged off a chill as he made his way toward the nearest squad car to call in the medical staff stationed a couple of blocks away.

"_Maybe Chief Vick will be able to get some info on what's going on."_

* * *

><p>She looked down at her dysfunctional head detective.<p>

The medics were on their way to the house and Detective Lassiter would be transported to Santa Barbara hospital for tests and wound recovery. A full 24-hour protection detail would be present at his door while all able bodies under her command would be on the hunt for the escaped killer.

She inhaled and exhaled softly. _"Too much."_

In twenty-four hours, her detective was linked to two murders, associated with a group of serial killers, saved a consultant and his partner, brought down the three serial killers, died at the hospital, got back up, injured one killer and six officers, threatened many others including herself and his partner, and now he was just sitting here quiet and staring off into space.

For two minutes straight.

The stillness was making her very uneasy. Just a couple of minutes ago, he had been so heated in getting them to stay away from him. What caused the sudden change? She wasn't sure, but she knew it wasn't Officer McNab's actions.

"_Was the drug wearing off?"_ She wondered. _"Or did Leo send some kind of command?"_

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Any strange devices.

Nothing seemed out of place as far as she knew, having only visited a few times recently for business reasons and that one time he had the flu and wouldn't sit still. She swore she had never seen someone so determined to kill themselves for work.

She took another couple of slow breaths to clear her head of the questions before giving the order for Dawson and Goober to stand guard outside: one in the front entrance and one in the back. They both nodded and she watched them take their position.

Whatever this Leo character had given her Head Detective it had to be some powerful stuff and the added abnormal abilities hadn't slipped her mind at all. Nor had the unpredictability of the circumstances, but those specialized handcuffs from Prison Transport should keep him restrained. There wasn't a universal key like normal cuffs and they were made to be inescapable with extra thick links and unpickable locks. And if he'd try to run…

Goober and Dawson had their orders.

She turned back to her detective. Blood was still dripping onto the carpet.

"Detective O'Hara." She stated sternly motioning for her to give her some paper towels.

The young woman complied and soon a bundled of towels appeared in her outstretched hand. "And make sure Mr. Spencer and Guster stay where they are." She ordered glancing at the duo in the kitchen before making her way over to stand by the still man.

Only a few officers knew the detective was still alive and she made everyone that witnessed the station incident promise to keep their mouths shut. Bad news tended to spread fast and 'special' abnormalities tended to spread faster. She would rather not have the media get wind of this and make a mockery of the situation surrounding her Head Detective. She had enough on her plate to think about without the media adding an extra side of BS. Hopefully once she had the full story, she would be able to get rid of all the charges on her detective because she knew repercussions were coming and the fiery wave of hell was coming right behind it.

"Detective Lassiter." She stated firmly. There was no response to the call. Not even a muscle twitch. Was he ignoring her? She didn't think so. A part of her was thinking he was in a trance of some kind. The minutes ticked on without any inclination of a threat from the man and she stepped a bit closer.

She wanted some answers from him before he was transported, if he was coherent enough to provide those answers. It was a very delicate situation that needed a delicate hand: Her hand. She did know from years of experience that Detective Lassiter was cooperative, well semi-cooperative, when he wasn't being provoked, instigated, or undermined. Her failed attempt to get information at the station hadn't escaped her mind. At the time, she had been too aggressive from the start because of the lack of sleep, the storm of emotions, and the overall feeling of being highly disturbed by the sight and assumed actions of her Head Detective.

Now however, she would try a different approach. She had to.

And if push-come-to-shove she would ask Detective O'Hara for assistance. But if none worked, she would turn him over to the medics and she would, in full confidence, turn her attention on hunting Leo. She just prayed her decision to keep Shawn and Burton in the house wouldn't backfire and result in an outburst like at the station. She threw a brief glare in Shawn's direction before turning her full attention on her Head Detective and friend.

"Carlton." She spoke gently, adding a slight motherly tone to her usual authoritative voice. She rested a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Raise your head so I can help you."

He didn't move.

Slowly, she sat next to him. She immediately noted the blood was dripping from his mouth and his eyes were staring blankly at the floor.

"Carlton. I know you can hear me." She spoke again and moved the towels in his line of sight. "Let me help you."

* * *

><p>He blinked his blurry sights clear while staring at the white paper floating in front of him. He didn't make a move to acknowledge the help or the two people standing close to him.<p>

His concern wasn't on them. They meant nothing.

He looked away from the paper back to the floor.

Everything felt so mudded and disconnected. An unusual feeling for him and he didn't like it. Not one bit. But it was ever-so slowly going away. Like a numb area coming back to life.

Liquid dripped from his mouth and dropped into the sea of beige. He watched the dark color spread and sink into the floor. He licked at the blood on his lip taking in the coppery taste. His fingers twitched and he lightly pulled at the metal around his wrist. The thick links in-between clinked gently. His jaw clenched as he closed his eyes, pretending to ignore everything except what was most important.

* * *

><p>She pulled the paper towels toward herself and continued to talk with eyes set on her stubborn detective. "I know this whole situation is a hit at your pride, but you left us no choice. We know Leo gave you something to influence your actions and because of that we can't let you go after him. Leave that to us. In the meantime, you will be taken to the hospital and you will focus on getting yourself back together. It will be only a matter of time before they know how to counteract the drug from that empty syringe we confiscated."<p>

There was still no movement for the man. Not even a glare or retort at the notion of forced hospitalization.

"But," She continued. "If you can give us any clue to where Leo is right now or where he might be heading, it will help and I can get you off of suspension sooner rather than later."

She had hoped mentioning the suspension would motivate him or at least get through the thick cloud that seemed to have settled in his head. It seemed she was wrong. He again didn't move, but the blood had stopped dripping. She sighed and tightened a hand on the paper towels before standing up. She glanced at Detective O'Hara and motioned for her to follow. She walked a couple of steps away from the still unresponsive head detective and turned to the younger woman.

"O'Hara-" She started.

"Chief." A voice called out.

She looked toward the front entrance where Officer McNab was coming in.

"The medics are here and are waiting outside." He stated.

She nodded and then looked back at O'Hara. "When Detective Lassiter is set at the hospital, I want you to get as much information about Leo as you can from him. I don't know what it is, but I've noticed he responds to you more than anyone."

The junior detective nodded her head. "I can try, Chief."

* * *

><p>Everything still felt unclear; a kind of dullness that was settling and just wouldn't go away. But at least he could think clearly now and he was glad some skills never die. Apparently, <strong>he<strong> hadn't used it around these people or they would've been paying more attention to him.

He glanced up at the three people talking amongst themselves while twirling the key in his right hand behind him.

It amazed him how naive people were. Letting their guard down because they held so much confidence in restraints and the things they thought they knew. He would've laughed, if he could. But that part of him was currently suffering a fate worse than death. And he was still in the process of 'waking up,' so happy wasn't on his list anyway. Not until he got out of these cuffs and jump started some things…

He looked back down quieting his movements just when one of them glanced in his direction. When their attention returned back to the discussion, he continued fiddling with the locks with his head down.

They wanted to save him. Help him. Just like so many others. And they had obviously ignored the many warnings given, just like so many others. He could show them what the warnings were for before he headed out to complete the order. It wasn't like **he** set strict conditions and that stupid collar wasn't shocking him for sitting here wasting time.

Actually, he was more surprised the warden wasn't nagging in the background and yanking the leash. For once, he felt like he could do anything he wanted, just like back then. It was probably a superficial feeling, but he internally smiled at the notion of freedom as he thought about all the fun he could have.

* * *

><p>His hand tightened around his weapon as he looked out at the backyard from the porch.<p>

He didn't know what the Chief saw in Lassiter or why she took up for him. All The Time. The guy was a total asshole and a crooked cop. How could they not see that? He admitted he didn't have any evidence of any unlawful conduct, but there was just something the head detective was hiding. He had felt it the first time they met. That look in his eyes; it was of someone who had seen and done some horrendous things. Based on what happened at the station, what he saw, he knew that whatever had sparked the current circumstances was most likely from those horrendous things coming to light. It was probably the reason why Chief Vick posted him and his partner on guard duty outside. He wasn't dumb. She wanted vital information from Lassiter with everyone who was closely involved being present. Even that rookie McNab somehow found his way into the inner circle.

His eyes continued to scan the backyard and beyond.

He had been really happy to see the handcuffs on when the detective was marched toward the interrogation hall the other day, and not at all sad when he heard the man had died. Now Lassiter was back like some damn cockroach.

And, the Chief was taking up for him, again. Protecting him. Just like with the Chavez case.

"_What I wouldn't give to shoot Lassiter just once."_ He huffed.

He kicked a rock out in the yard, and watched it roll through the grass and stop by a patch of upturned dirt on the far side of the yard.

"That's definitely suspicious." He mumbled switching his grip on his gun.

He cautioned over and kicked the dirt. Something poked out of the ground. It looked like a dog's paw and arm. Maroon covered its matted, light brown fur.

A noise from the back fence made him looked up, aiming his rifle at the threat. Two squirrels sat on the fence staring at him. He stared back, relaxing his aim. Their tails twitched in pattern to each other. After a minute, the animals then turned their heads in opposite directions from each other and jumped off the fence, disappearing in the yard behind. He shrugged at the strangeness and hurried back to the house.

He had to tell the Chief about the possible grave site. He wouldn't be surprise if that was from some freaky ritual or something.

"_Just wait until the media gets wind of this."_

After hearing the story, people would want Lassiter's head for hurting precious animals.

He smiled when he stepped in the house and looked over to sneer at the Head Detective. His smiled dropped at seeing the detective working on getting the last cuff off and the group of unaware people talking to themselves a few feet away. Detective Lassiter looked in his direction and slowly stood up. He quickly aimed the rifle at him.

"Sit back down!" He didn't mean to yell, but there was this creepy look on the detective's face that immediately put him on edge.

And when he saw the man take a step toward him and then another…

He did what any person in his position would do.

He pulled the trigger.

The gun fired off its nonlethal rounds rapidly, but none hit its target because he had to dodge the thick handcuffs thrown at his head. Suddenly, he found himself overtaken and pushed into the back door by Lassiter. His gun was held away spraying bullets toward the others in the room. He watched them dive and duck out of the way of the assault as the door gave way to their combined weight, and he and the detective tumbled to the floor.

His finger released the trigger and he tried to hit the detective with the butt of the gun, but a punch to the face made his vision go black for a second. The gun was pulled from his weakened grip and he looked at Lassiter with the most hated expression he could muster, daring the detective to use the gun on him. Blood oozed from his broken nose.

* * *

><p>"Lassiter!" She heard the Chief yell out as they all scrambled out of cover. "Get off of Dawson!"<p>

Before Chief Vick was fully up, she was on her feet and hurrying to her partner. By the time she made it next to him, he had stood up with rifle relaxed in one hand and was staring hard at Dawson. Taking the rifle from his hand, she glared at him with hardened eyes.

"Carlton." She exclaimed, stepping in front of him to block his view and to force him to take a couple of steps back. Dark blue eyes turned to stare at her and the rest of her words caught in her throat for a few seconds at realizing that the green color was gone and it wasn't changing back. "Calm down." She said slowly quickly collecting herself and placing a light hold on his right arm. "You know you don't need to be fighting any of us right now."

* * *

><p>The second the young female grabbed his arm, his breath hitched and he reflectively seized her arm with his left hand.<p>

Just one quick jerk and her arm would be rendered useless. But some part of him was fighting the urge and only held the arm with the lightest touch. Just like it had done when he had punched that male. He had wanted to cave the male's face in for shooting at him, and despite all the force he thought he had thrown, he only gave a broken nose.

Why? He made sure to lock **him** up just like **he** did him. Maybe it was residual emotions.

He could get rid of that. Just one taste.

He looked at the male still on the floor now surrounded by the others. The young female then moved to block his view.

Scowling, he glared daggers at her.

She glared back with knives of her own before passing the weapon to the tall male in black and pushing him back, away from the group. A jingling sound made him look over to see a gold bracelet wrapped around her right wrist. The jingling echoed in his head and a funny feeling floated in like a cloud, circling his thoughts.

The world swayed a bit and he closed eyes.

A clear image appeared in his head: bloody body parts thrown all over the cell, leaving just one piece clean and intact.

It excited him to see the red color splattered against the dark grey and at the same time…

It disturbed him.

But it shouldn't have.

Why was it so disturbing?

Opening his eyes, he ignored the hands tightening their hold on his arms and the soothing words trying to calm him.

* * *

><p>Goober helped him off the floor as the psychic and his friend came from behind the broken door to join the crowd standing around him. He shrugged Goober's hand away and wiped the blood from his nose, ignoring the sting of pain. He gave a fleeing glare at Lassiter before turning to the Chief.<p>

"How can you still stand beside him?" He asked pointing to the detective as Detective O'Hara turned and eased to the side. "He's crooked, a criminal, and he has killed people."

"Detective Lassiter is being controlled-" Chief Vick started.

"That is bullshit." He yelled. "People don't die and get back up." He looked at Lassiter with a sneering smile. "But I know how you did it." He pointed a thumb at the open back door before folding his arms. "Why don't you explain to everyone why you have a recently killed dog buried in your backyard? I don't remember you ever having pets or ever caring to have one."

His smile grew when everyone turned toward the head detective, all expecting an answer.

The man stared back blankly before closing his eyes and effectively shutting himself off from the world.

"_Is he ignoring my question?" _

Minutes passed and slowly the attention turned away from Lassiter back to him.

"_He is ignoring my question." _His fist tightened in irritation. "You're a coward, Lassiter." He called out. "You can't keep your-

"That's enough." Goober said grabbing his shoulder and pushing him toward the front door. "You're making things difficult and you need to calm down before you get in trouble again. Let's go."

He again wiped at the blood rolling down and gave one more hated glance at a still closed-off Lassiter before allowing his partner to guide him away.

* * *

><p>Hazel eyes studied Lassie. He was shocked the head detective did absolutely nothing during Dawson's onslaught. But the man was acting strange. Very strange.<p>

He had caught the blue color in Lassie's eyes the second he was pulled off the wall by Buzz, and he was a little hopeful to see that their Lassie had not torn Dawson a new one for shooting. It was very unlikely the other two…

"_What should I call them? Spirits?" _He shrugged. It went well with his possession claim, which he willfully held onto, despite everything in his rational mind telling him it was something more than a simple 'possession.'

…It was very unlikely the other two 'spirits' would react that way. But what had just occurred did not in any shape or form follow with how the real Lassie would react to being both accused and insulted.

"_Just calling him a criminal should've equaled another punch in the face."_ He knew Dawson deserved that much for stepping out of line.

His gaze turned from Lassie to Dawson and Goober, and followed them as they passed him and Gus.

Some explanation had to be on one of those papers from the lockbox that he had Gus crack open. Turning slightly away from everyone, he pulled out his phone and started to quickly cycle through the pictures he had taken. He just hoped the pictures were good enough for him to make out the important stuff. At the time, he had been a tiny bit startled when he heard the gunshots and had to quickly play off that he hadn't screamed and dove under the table with Gus in tow. His eyes widened at finding something that could help.

"Calm petals…" He mumbled to himself.

* * *

><p>Right after he passed the psychic and his friend, his foot hit something. He stopped, and playing off the motion of tying his shoe, he picked up the dark blue velvet box. Quickly he peeked at what was inside, stood up, slyly placed the item into his pocket, and continued his stroll down the hallway with Goober behind him.<p>

"_Well it'll help pay for my broking no-."_ Something grabbed him and as he was pulled into the dimly lit living room, he vaguely spotted Goober get pulled in with him. He grunted in pain when he hit the desk in the middle of the room with enough force to hear something crack in his chest. Stars danced in his vision as he slowly pushed off the desk and looked back. He immediately spotted Goober unconscious in the corner next to the entrance and a familiar shadowed figure glare at him with demonic light shining from his eyes.

"What the…?" He mumbled in surprise.

A low growl answered his question before a hand wrapped tightly around his throat and held him down against the desk.

* * *

><p>She had turned away for one second. Just one second and her partner had disappeared. She rubbed a hand through her hair looking into the dark hallway leading toward the bedrooms. Chills were running up and down her arms, and her mind kept bringing up what happened at the warehouse. What she had seen at the end of that long hallway.<p>

She took a couple of deep breaths to slow her racing heart.

Someone had to go grab Carlton and get him back here peacefully and who better than her.

The Chief and Buzz stood back watching and waiting, like she had suggested they do. But a part of her really wanted someone else to come with her.

A couple of loud thumps and a muffled yell had her turn her head back. Everyone else had done the same thing, except Shawn and Gus. Their heads were already turned toward the front door with wide eyes filled with fear and uncertainty.

There was a second of silence before Chief Vick, her, and Buzz made any move to rush past the duo toward the noise at the front of the house.

* * *

><p>Leaning against the desk, his dark blue eyes rimmed with gold gazed at the small, navy blue box in his right hand. He wiped his left hand on his pant leg before opening it delicately.<p>

Inside there was a gold ring with a large sparkling diamond set in the center and twisting engraftments in the metal that disappeared into the soft, dark plush.

He didn't know what the shiny metal circle meant. The meaning was spilling through his fingers and hard to grasp at the moment. But this was the only thing around here that had _her_ scent and it would be a cold day in hell, if he let some pathetic male walk off with it. It had taken a lot of effort for him to keep it safe for this long.

He pulled the ring out and set the box on the desk away from the growing puddle that was slowly consuming his paperwork and the better half of the desk.

The ring's polished surface gleamed in the dim light.

A collective gasp from the room's entrance made him look up. The others stood there. Their fear and emotions rolled in with the breeze and intermixed with the heavy cloud of death and blood in the room. They were shocked and they had every right to be.

He glanced at idiot number one lying on the desk next to him. The male's mouth hung loosely open and torn in the corners from a broken jaw, and there was a gaping wound in the chest, neither of which could be seen because the lack of light and the male's back was facing the group.

Idiot number two was sprawled on the floor with hands reaching for the safety of the sunlit entranceway and a knife sticking out the center of his back. He had severed the spinal cord with the sharp tool, but struck it in an area that kept the more important functions intact.

They deserved what they received. Idiot number two should've stayed against the wall and not attacked with the knife. Idiot number one had no chance in hell. The male had signed his own death warrant the second he had challenged him in his own territory by insulting him and taking the ring.

And it seemed the part of him that had been fighting had whole hearteningly agreed to help; it had willingly given more clarity and pushed all the unclear away from his mind.

He smiled looking back at the ring.

He wished _she_ was here. But sadly **he** wasn't man enough to keep _her_ here.

He scowled with hand tightening around the ring.

If he was the dominant one, _she_ wouldn't have left.

"Carlton!"

He turned looking at the younger female of the group. Her face was an array of emotions. She wanted to say something more. He felt she wanted to say something more. But the second male on the floor started gargling words, telling them to leave, to run, that it wasn't Lassiter, shoot him in the head … The male was pleading with them.

Trying to get them to save themselves.

He snorted before placing the ring back in its box, standing up, and putting the box in his pocket. He would end the annoyance quickly with a hard stomp and twist to the back of the neck.

His legs carried him the few feet to the incoherent mumbling male, but he paused in step when he heard the clicking and the reveal of multiple weapons: three to be exact. All aimed at him.

He looked at them, completely uncaring.

Despite being slightly injured and outnumbered, he knew none of the people in his territory could do harm to him. He wasn't as gravely injured as he was before and there weren't twenty weapons aimed at him. So all he needed was ten seconds and they wouldn't know what hit them until they were looking at half their body twitching across the room.

His prey, on the other hand, would get special treatment: pull every limp away with the head being last, so he could hear the screams.

He unconsciously licked at the smear of blood around his mouth.

There was another he wouldn't mind ripping their head off.

Maybe play with **her** entrails.

Do a little interior rearranging on the walls.

Draw a picture in red.

Deep, deep red.

The sunlight streaming through the open door and the cracks in the blinds started to darken from overcast and he felt a rise in energy; a cold fire that started to spread across his skin from his core causing goose bumps to appear. His eyes closed enjoying the tingling and the scents floating in the air: the blood, the death, the fear, the not knowing, the-

His eyes jerked open landing on the younger female. She stood still in her advance. His concern wasn't on her, though. He had felt something strange. Like a fierce pull on the last string of a strained rope.

He had never felt anything like it before and it left a funny feeling in his head that caused the room to twist and sway violently. Stumbling back, he placed a hand to his head, trying to quail the growing sensation. Numbness soon started to crawl its way up his arms and he felt his body start to sink to the floor. He growled at the sudden weakness and tried to force it all away. He did not want to lose this opportunity to live.

It eased a bit, but didn't leave.

Suddenly another wave of funny feelings passed through his head and it quickly escalated to one monster of a headache with intense, sharp pain traveling through every fiber. His teeth clenched and his hands dug into the carpet leaving streaks of red. A coppery taste filled his mouth and he felt the icy fire briefly cut through the ever-growing numbness with burning heat.

He didn't understand what was causing this. He had never felt it before.

Grunting at the pain, he focused on his hands and the dark shapes in the light color of the carpet as he struggled to stay conscious. Their colors shifted, blended into pictures and moving images.

Deer running, dark green, people running, screaming, hallways, calming waters, dark shadows, _her_ smile, _her_ laugh…

"_I have to test this out." _

"_You are __**not **__going to be like Ethan." _

"_Fight it. __**Fight it**__."_

He shook his head. His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere.

But Red always cured things. Red cured many things.

Darkness and stars were easing their way into his sight as his eyes wandered up and over to the closest source.

His right hand slowly slid along the floor toward it.

Then like an anchor snapping and falling away into a deep abyss.

All thought was gone, except for one.

"_Kill…"_

And he lashed out digging his claws into flesh.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38 (2) – Down the Tunnel of Black and White<strong>

He didn't know where he was.

He didn't know how he ended up where he was.

He didn't know whether he was alive or dead.

All he knew was that he existed and that what he was seeing was the color black.

The absence of light, the absence of all colors.

The color of mastery, of profession, of dignity,

…of evil,

… of death

Was he dead?

He involuntarily took a breath and exhaled. It felt hot on the lower part of his face for a second before the heat quickly dispersed.

His thoughts silenced. He blinked his eyes and looked around in confusion.

He still couldn't see anything or hear anything. He couldn't even feel anything around him.

It was just him, by himself, all alone in the blackness.

But…

He inhaled and exhaled again.

"_If I can breathe, then I'm not dead."_

His rising hope was quickly stifled by a sharp pain traveling through him, making him gasp.

He remembered that pain.

An image of a pistol firing before it collapsed into red and then black.

"…"

He tried to shift a little, but he found he couldn't.

Everything around felt so dead, so just maybe…

"I am dead." He concluded. Strangely, it sounded echo-y.

The statement made the air feel heavy and slowly he found himself vacantly floating again in the inky blackness.

For what felt like days, he drifted there, letting his mind wander into nothingness until his ears picked up gentle rhythmic taps. It sounded like footsteps, which soon grew louder, closer, and more …frantic?

They paused a few feet away.

Something clicked in the darkness and suddenly bright light flooded the area, making his eyes water as he closed them.

"Carlton?" A girl's voice questioned followed by the panicky footsteps of her sneakered feet. "Carlton! Wake up." He felt hands shaking his shoulder. He groaned in displeasure at being moved.

"This is bad." Her voice was breathless and it seemed far away. "That stupid psychic…" He heard her mumble. "Carlton." A hand lightly slapped his cheek and fingers snapped in his face. He looked at her dazed. "Get up." She ordered.

His eyes started to close and she pushed him hard. His heavy eyes jumped open, slightly.

"No, no. You have to get up." She said as she moved behind him and tried to push him up. "Come on." She strained.

He felt her lift his upper body a few inches off the ground before she dropped him, breathing heavily.

"Carlton, you bastard." She said collapsing next to him. "I ran all over this place trying to find you and here you are sulking in the dark. You could at least help me help you."

He made no move to acknowledge her. His mind was empty.

"Look I'm sorry for leaving you before… even though you gave me no choice." She mumbled the last part. "But that's not the point; if you don't get up and come with me, it's going to happen again and they're gonna die."

He continued to stare at nothing.

She moved into his line of sight. Her dark hair and face was blocking the light from the door.

"They're all going to die!"

He flinched at her yell.

"Do you hear me, **Carlton**!?"

Dazed, he looked at her glaring eyes.

"_Who are they?"_

Her features softened.

"Your friends…"

"But I don't have friends." It was muffled by something covering his nose and mouth. _"They're all dead. I'm dead."_

She shook her head. Her hair swayed and he was mesmerized by the movement. "Do not go back to that mindset. You're not dead and you have new friends. Protect them."

A collage of pictures fluttered through his head before disappearing and taking some of the fog with it.

"_Protect them…"_

He made to push himself up, but found he couldn't. His arms were wrapped around his body in an awkward hug-yourself way. He looked up at her in confusion. She smiled.

"Let me help you up."

She stood up and moved behind him. When he felt her tried to lift him again, he helped by putting his legs underneath and pushing up. He stumbled a little on his feet and she grabbed him before he could fall.

"See. That wasn't so bad." He glanced at her. She was still smiling. "Come on so I can see how to get this thing off of you."

He looked down finally taking notice of the dark brown plastic thing covering his mouth and nose and the beige straitjacket wrapped around him.

"And then you can go save your friends." She continued guiding him out of the room, which proved to be a little more difficult than the girl let on.

He paused right outside the doorway. There was something tightening in his chest, making it hard to breathe.

The girl turned to him. "What's wrong?" She asked.

He couldn't really put it in words and as he felt his energy drain, he leaned against the door frame trying to breathe.

She walked back to him, looking him over. Then she took a hold of one covered arm and pulled him away from the door.

He traveled a few inches before that tight feeling started to hurt like a knife digging into his chest and he pulled back yelling for her to stop.

But she continued and slowly her strength out won his. The pain increased and when it felt like he couldn't take anymore, it stopped with an invisible snap. Well scratch that, it wasn't invisible.

He had turned back just in time to see thick black tentacles of mist slither back into the room.

He stood there dumbfounded.

"_What the hell was that?" _

"That, my friend," The girl rounded to the door, "Was some bad juju." The girl then slammed the door close.

"Bad juju?" His foggy mind was having trouble clearing.

"Yup." She slapped her hands together as if to get rid of some dirt. "Just remnants of something from long ago."

She made her way to him.

"Who are you?" He asked.

"I'm no one important. Now let's get this off of ya. "She answered moving behind him.

Unconsciously nodding, his still muddled mind accepted the answer without much thought as he felt her messing with the straps in the back.

His eyes gazed at the environment.

The hallway was dank and gray. A cold breeze went by making him shiver and carrying with it a strange clicking sound. He trained his eyes down the hallway. Nothing moved in the darkness clouding its end. Just maybe it was his imagination. He glanced back. She was tugging on something.

"Why did you do this to yourself?" He heard the girl mumble.

"I didn't do anything." He answered.

She either didn't hear him or was ignoring him, but she stepped back with a pout.

"This is not gonna give. It's padlocked." She rounded to his front, shaking her head.

The clicking grew louder and closer.

"You might be a little restricted," His eyes again focused past her to the end of the hallway.

"But hopefully you'll still be able to-"

Growling added to the clicking.

Finally noticing the noise, the girl turned away from him.

Waves of shadow rolled out of the dark like fog.

A murky mass was growing and stepping closer to them with each clicking sound.

It paused right out of sight. Twin orbs of gold appeared. They stared from half his height off the floor. Whatever it was it seemed angry. Very angry.

He could feel it.

"Carlton." He heard the girl whisper with her head still trained ahead. "Step back, slowly and do not stare directly in its eyes."

He did as he was told. Keeping his eyes down, they inched their way back.

He found himself so focused on the task that he didn't feel the girl grab one of his restrained arms until she pulled him back and told him to "come on."

"What" was the only thing to escape his mouth as he hurried to balance himself enough to run with the girl.

The clicking resumed and quickened as the thing followed behind them, roaring.

He ran awkwardly following the girl around corner after corner and up flights of stairs and trying not to think of what the thing would do if it were to catch them.

And as they ran, the dark hallways brightened and the clicking lessened and disappeared.

The girl slowed in her run and stopped. He stopped next to her trying to catch his breath.

"Now what the Hell was that!?" He muffled out glancing back.

She had a seriousness in her face that was so un-girl like, but it cleared so fast to a smile that he had second thoughts of seeing the expression in the first place.

"That was some more bad juju that should never ever be messed with. But you're safe up here."

She then walked away from him.

"_Up here?"_

He gave her a look before letting his eyes wander to take in the surroundings.

They were still in a hallway, but it held a kind of warmth that felt good. It was completely opposite from the area he had started in.

The place must've been huge with its endless hallways and numerous doors he had glimpsed as they ran. He had to wonder how this girl was able navigate and search through this place, and still have so much energy left over.

He took a slow pace in the direction the girl went and this allowed his head to clear of the murky fog.

Bring memories and helping him put pieces together that made sense.

And making him realized that he remembered her.

His pace quickened to a jog.

"I remember you." He stated feet behind the girl.

Dark hair waved as she turned to face him. He looked down at the girl and frowned. "You're that mental girl who broke into my house."

She looked up at him in annoyance. "I'm not mental and I didn't **really** break into your house."

"Oh you didn't." He stated sarcastically. "How do you explain being in a house that's not yours?"

"Umm… visiting?"

He opened his mouth to respond, but then realized she was right and his frown deepened with annoyance behind the thing covering his mouth. "But it's not visiting if you're not invited." He finally remarked.

"But I invited myself in." She threw back with a smile.

He growled with frustration and tightened fist, which went unseen because of the straitjacket.

"That psychic was right. It is fun messing with you." Then her smile straightened and she shook her head. "That is wrong on so many levels."

She turned away.

"Wait." He yelled out in irritation.

She ignored him and continued down the hallway.

He ran and stopped in front of her.

Steel blue glared.

"I don't know what's going on, but you are going to tell me-"

Her smiling face fell flat. "Nope."

"Drugging, kidnapping, and restraining an officer is a serious offense, but if you-"

"I said no. You had your chance, and if you REALLY think I'm that crazy to drug and kidnap you, then you must be out of your mind." She smiled slightly. "Or in it."

He looked at her confused.

"Now if you'll excuse the use of force," she said grabbing one tied arm. "I'm tired and in desperate need of a nap." She turned away pulling him along with a vice-like grip he couldn't break out of. "And you'll get your answers soon enough. Just not now. There are more important things you need to do first."

"And what's so important?" He spat.

"This."

She guided him to one door in the hallway of many doors and let go of his arm.

It looked just like the Chief of Police door at the station. The blinds were closed, so he couldn't see anything inside.

He looked down at the girl.

"What kind of trick are you trying to pull?"

"No trick. You just go in and you're out of this place."

"Who do you think I am? I'm not some imbecile who would happily walk into an obvious trap."

"It's not a trap." She huffed in irritation before moving behind him to push him closer to the door.

"Hey!"

"Do I need to remind you your friends are in trouble? Now open the door."

His eyes narrowed.

"But how do I know they're in trouble in the first place?"

* * *

><p>Sighing, she grabbed his elbow, placed it on the handle, and pushed down.<p>

She had expected the bright light, that was a given.

But she didn't expect to hear the steady beeping of a machine to her right or for the light to subside and to see a white ceiling connected to a room that reeked of cleaning chemicals.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 38 (3) – Waking to a Truth Partial<strong>

Blue eyes shot open at the sound of alarms. She jumped up out of her chair as doctors and nurses alike rushed in to check on the person in the bed.

She didn't know what was going on and considering it was almost two in the morning; it was taking longer for her mind to register the mass of blue blocking her view and the sounds in the air.

So she let her worried sights wander toward the doorway. Two officers, who were stationed outside, were looking in. One gave her a look of sympathy before turning away and focusing his eyes back on his duty.

She looked back at the mass of moving blue.

There was nothing she could do and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

The minutes ticked on and slowly the doctors and nurses filed out closing the door and leaving her standing in the same spot staring at the same fragile picture of a man.

"What a shame."

Her widened eyes flicked to her right at the familiar voice.

"You know something is telling me that the bastard has some serious issues."

She watched his eyes glower in the direction of the bed before turning to her.

Steel blue to her gray-blue.

"O'Hara."

Her mouth dropped open. His face was blank and unreadable.

"I know you try… But some things need to stay in the dark."

She faced him, confusion written all over. "What do you mean, Carlton?"

"O'Hara, don't play stupid." He stepped toward her. There was a strange light in his eyes and she stepped back. "You're smart enough to realize something isn't right; that it doesn't fit."

She backed up with his advance.

"That the pieces don't make sense… Oh, but when they start to make sense…"

"I don't know what you're talking about." She forced back.

He jumped at her and she found herself trapped against the wall with his arms blocking any means of escape.

"You do." He stated calmly.

She looked at him trying hard to mask the fear.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." His blue eyes were piercing into her soul. "You saw something back at my house, didn't you?" His eyes narrowed. "What did you see?"

She stayed silent.

"What did you see, O'Hara!?"

She flinched at his yelled and pushed him back with all she had.

He stumbled away.

"What is wrong with you?" She threw out glaring at him. "I've been your partner for six years and you're acting like someone I don't even know. What is going on with you? What did Leo do to you?"

His eyes glanced at the bed next to him. She followed his sight and gasped.

Shawn was laying there unconscious with bloody bandages wrapped around face. His right arm was up in a cast and there was a missing bump where his left leg should've been.

"Pineapples…"

Her eyes turned back to her partner, who was almost affectionately rubbing the small part of Shawn's hair that wasn't covered.

"They taste pretty good, but…"

His hands traveled down to settle at Shawn's cheeks and with a quick twist and a loud pop, Shawn's head was left lying awkwardly on the pillow.

The heart monitor flat lined with that steady screeching monotone.

She was horrified.

He looked at her, that strange light becoming more pronounced in his eyes.

"I wonder…"

She saw his shadow morph and wave behind him, changing into something inhuman.

"Do peaches taste better?"

Then he lunged at her with sharp teeth and claws.

And she screamed.

**AN: So… how was it? Confusion galore. This is most likely going to be the longest chapter in the story with a whopping 8,500 words and I know the batch of cliffys didn't help at all. Well, I'm off to work on the next scene. I don't know when I'll update, considering I'm about to go through some big transitions in life (including classes starting -_-), so just waaait for iiitttt. Hopefully not too long. **

**Also just wanted to ask: Would you like me to update per scenes, kind of like this chapter, or do you prefer the bite-size chapters I had been doing before? It will change how frequently I update. So just send a message with your answer. **


	40. Ch39 Hospital Visit to the Bedridden

**Okay I'm back, but not all the way. Thanks to Jesse Wales for making the story cover and for making me update.**

**Anyway seeing as it's been a while since I've updated I would suggest reading chapter 38 (2) to get your bearings back. This chapter rolls right from that POV. Reading the other parts of chapter 38 is good too, but I'm just saying for those that like to read in order.**

**As an added note, I'm in the process of going back to correct some issues (grammar, breaks in story flow, confusion), so there are some minor additions in different areas of the story. Nothing has changed story-wise. It's just an enhancement. If at any time you see any mistakes just let me know. I don't have a beta, and my mind does like to see stuff that's not there until after I've read it a hundred times over. And even then, I sometimes still don't see errors. *sigh* Also if you do see something that is confusing let me know, I'll be sure to say whether it was intentional or not. :) **

**Happy Reading!**

**Chapter 39 – Hospital Visit to the Forcefully Bedridden**

[Sun]

"_What the hell?" _He thought.

This definitely wasn't supposed to happen.

The steady beeping of his heart to the right continued its rhythm and his heavy eyes glared at a point on the white ceiling.

He knew he was in hospital, a place he didn't ever want to be in again.

Too many bad memories.

He frowned, shifting a bit in the bed. Something was wrapped tightly around his wrists, ankles, and across his body underneath the blankets covering him. It greatly restricted his movement and he had to take some deep breaths to quail the rising panic and images from his mind. Closing his eyes, he pushed his mind to wander toward open spaces: green fields with tall fluffy grass, blue wildflowers peppering the single bright color, a warm sun, blue sky, clear of any clouds, a gentle breeze…

His body relaxed against the straps that bounded him and he could feel the usual start of sense separation, then…

He was back to hearing the annoying beeping of his heart. His frown came back and he opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.

Something was keeping him here. He didn't know what, but he had a feeling that it had to do with that weird contraption of _his_. That stupid straitjacket.

He glared at the ceiling.

A small whimper sounded from his left and his eyes immediately looked over.

The younger blond laid there on the couch with eyes closed and a hand supporting her head.

He watched the woman from his position in the bed.

She was having one heck of a nightmare.

He didn't have to smell the unstable waves of fear to know. Her scrunched up face and tensed muscles told him so.

Disconnected images came at him and he sighed, looking back up at the ceiling.

He had a feeling the dream was about him.

"_At least she survived without physical injury."_ He noted to himself.

He knew he had dropped the ball by getting caught up in the past and he'd hate to think of what damage was made: If the others had survived or not. The little snippets he could gather from memory were unorganized and hard to piece together, as usual whenever **he** was involved.

His duty was to make sure things didn't repeat, not helping it to repeat. Sighing again, he closed his eyes faking sleep just as a scream erupted from his right.

* * *

><p>She gasped for breath, just as the door burst open. Two officers showed, along with a frazzled Shawn.<p>

"Jules!" He yelled out running to her and collecting her in an embrace. "You alright?"

She couldn't keep her eyes from looking at the person in the bed to make sure he was still there and not…

"I'm good." She stated slowly pushing Shawn back. "I'm alright." She repeated nodding her head at the officers.

They nodded and moved back out to close the door.

"Jules, are you sure you alright?"

"Yes, Shawn. I am. _Now that you're not dead and Carlton is not…"_ She sat back feeling completely drained. The nap did little of what it was supposed to do. She glanced at the window. The sky was a dark blue, almost black.

"You are not okay, Jules."

She sighed.

"I can feel it." He looked at her with genuine concern and then whispered, "Did he move or something?"

"What?" She asked looking at Shawn.

"Did Lassie move? You know. Is he awake?"

"Awake?" She looked over at her partner in the bed. His eyes were still closed and he was breathing steadily. "I don't think so."

Shawn then followed her gaze. "His heart rate is a tad bit elevated. I don't know if that means anything."

She gave Shawn a strange look wondering what he was trying to tell her.

"If only Gus was here, he would know how to read that heart thing, but his second job was calling him. Which really shouldn't be because it's like eight, you know I think-"

Ignoring Shawn, she stood up from the very uncomfortable couch and stretched a bit. She really didn't feel like listening to Shawn's ramble, but his voice and company was needed. It was keeping her anchored, if at only for a moment.

Her eyes gave Shawn a quick glance before turning her full gaze on the person in the bed.

Here she was at the hospital with two officers from a different department stationed outside the room, a psychic who volunteered to stay for snack runs, and a fully restrained head detective recovering from drug-induced hallucinations and internal bleeding from reopening his wounds.

That was what his chart said.

She'd guess the diagnosis would help keep her partner out of the mountain of trouble that was ready to fall when all of this was over. She lightly shook her head. She knew it might not make a difference. But she would defend him nevertheless. She just wished she understood everything that was going on with Carlton. Because truthfully…

"_What did you see, O'Hara?"_

She couldn't stop the images of what she had seen with her own eyes; the things that were starting to click in place. The things she didn't want to believe.

Her hands fiddled with the folded paper and velvet box in her pocket.

And she was starting to feel a little betrayed.

She wanted to believe he was trying to fight this, whatever this was. But she could also tell it was winning, taking over, possessing him to do things he wouldn't do. Heck, normal people wouldn't have the capability to do some of the stuff Carlton did in the last few days.

But…

Did he not have enough trust in her to accept her help? To let it get to this point, where he would willingly follow a serial killer's instruction, practically die in front of her, and be resurrected as someone she barely knew.

Someone who would kill without a second glance. Someone who had a taste for-

"_What did you see? Tell me what you saw, O'Hara!"_

Her hands tightened around the objects in her pocket.

She was starting to wonder if the Carlton she knew had died on that operating table…

"Jules?"

She looked over at Shawn. His rambling was apparently done and concern was written clearly all over his face.

"Why don't we go get something to eat and get out of this stuffy room?" He asked with a grin.

She knew this was his way of trying to keep her spirits up, but he didn't know what she had found. She didn't want to leave. Not until Carlton opened his eyes and she pried some answers out of him. Forcefully if she had to. Well maybe not forcefully…

She shook her head at Shawn's question and then her stomach growled.

His grin widened. "Your stomach says otherwise. Come on." He reached for her.

Pulling her hand out of her pocket, she smiled a tired smile and blocked his hand. "Thanks for the offer, but I need to stay. Chief's orders."

"Aw Jules-"

"But you can bring me something from the cafeteria downstairs, if you so badly want to feed me."

* * *

><p>He shook his head frantically. "Jules, I can't leave you by yourself again."<p>

His heart was still beating hard from the unsuccessful, short trip out to the vending machine down the hall. Just the thought of opening the door and Jules would be…

Swallowing the large lump in his throat, he glanced at the person in the bed.

Before last night he hadn't taken any of this serious. Not really. All the theories were just something to makes things interesting. He had figured a long time ago (before he was taken hostage) that it was some lunatic and his group targeting Lassie for some revenge plot by framing the detective with the evil deeds they had done and then forcing him later to feign participation.

But now he had to take it serious. All of it.

The possession claim.

The controlling mechanism… or whatever Chief Vick was talking about with the drug.

Because now Lassie was actually killing people and he had almost hurt Jules. There was no way he would believe Lassie would willingly go after Jules. It had to be Leo's doing. It just had to.

He didn't know what he'd do if something were to happen and he wasn't there to protect her. He barely was able to pull her out of harm's way at Lassie's house and to think if he hadn't found that tip on what to do with the lavender, there would've been more bodies for the coroner to clean up.

He glanced at the vase full of lavenders sitting on a stand next to the bed and then looked back at her. "I just can't leave you." He mumbled.

Her sad expression hurt him and he wished that everything was back to normal. No mind-tripping serial killers with their drugs, no vampire-monster-zombie-possessed person or whatever the heck Lassie was, and no stressed out Jules.

"Shawn." He watched her walk up to him and pull him into a hug. His body melted at the contact and the kiss to the cheek had pushed everything clear from his mind. "Just go downstairs and get me something to eat." He heard her say and then he suddenly found himself staring at the opening elevator doors down the hallway from Lassie's room.

"_Dang, she is good."_ He thought floating into the elevator and pushing the first floor button. The second the doors slid shut the cloud nine feeling dissipated like water vapor and the weight of everything came rushing back. A huge part of him wanted to push the button to the next floor, get off, and run up back up the stairs. But apparently it didn't take very long to reach the first floor from the seventh in this hospital. The doors opened with a silent swoosh and he reluctantly stepped out into the bustle of the hallway, heading toward the cafeteria. He might as well get her something to eat while he was down here. As he hurried his steps, his mind turned inward.

There had to be something he could do to fix everything.

He knew Leo was somewhere, waiting and he knew the killer wouldn't be leaving Santa Barbara any time soon. Not with his daughter in the hospital. And even if the rest of the world thought the detective was dead, Leo knew Lassie was alive. He knew Leo wouldn't let that loose end stay loose. But the killer would be smart enough to not show his face in public for a few days, maybe even a few weeks, which gave them the time that they needed to get answers from the head detective.

Speaking of Lassie, he still hadn't figure out exactly what was going on with him. He and Gus hadn't had a chance to discuss anything since leaving Leo's house. He knew most of the answers were sitting in the lockbox that he had borrowed from Lassie's house. But he only knew that because of the few muddy pictures he took with his phone, since Gus had flatly refused to give him the combination and had even took the key with him, saying something about respecting privacy.

"_Why respect privacy when the solution to fixing Lassie is right there?"_ He sighed at the memory of Gus ignoring his question.

He would be willing to forget privacy if it meant helping out a friend.

He bit back a shiver at the thought of seeing his reluctant friend, who was in fact dead hours before, staring back at them through a one-way mirror covered from head to toe in blood… fresh blood.

"I had touched him and his skin was cold." He mumbled softly, thinking back to the body viewing at the hospital. _"The skin was losing color, the fingers were stiff, the wounds had stopped bleeding…"_ His mind started to list and he forced it to stop.

"_But he's alive, now… and different and killing people. There has to be a way to change it. To fix it."_

Shaking his head clear, he rubbed a hand through his hair and placed all of his focus on finding the cafeteria.

* * *

><p>She smiled as Shawn floated out of the room in a daze, closing the door behind him. When she turned to look back at her unmoving partner, her smile quickly died. Her legs soon carried her to stand at his bedside and she grasped the hard plastic rails on the side across from the couch.<p>

Her eyes stared unfocused at his face.

He looked so peaceful compared to back at his house.

At the time, she had been shocked and overwhelmed by his calm demeanor at the death around him. The death done by his hands.

She didn't want to believe it. She couldn't believe it. Even when she saw him moving to finish off Goober and her police instincts had kicked in, her mind had still refused to wrap around the fact that Carlton could be or was dangerous.

What she had believed was that if she could get him to focus all his attention on her that he would snap out of it like he did back at the station.

"_He wouldn't hurt me."_ She had thought as she placed her gun back in its holster and walked toward him. She had held confidence in the fact that their partner bond would be stronger then whatever damage Leo had done.

But when he had looked in her direction, she had immediately known something wasn't right, that something was different from the time at the station, and that same something was yelling for her to run away, back toward the light flooding the entryway. Back toward the safety of the others.

And despite what her body wanted to do, she stood her ground and kept pressing forward ever so slowly. Until the second she had seen pain streak across his face and he had collapsed to his knees while holding his head. The fear holding her back had disappeared, allowing her to run to his aid.

But she never reached him because someone had grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She found out quickly that it was Shawn when he stepped in front of her, intentionally placing himself between her and the kneeled Carlton. And she had started to protest with Shawn and had tried to push past him.

At the time, she had been determined to help her partner, not caring what Shawn had to say or what he was trying to do. To save Carlton, that was all she had wanted to do… until she had seen Carlton look up at her.

She remember freezing under his gaze. It was deadly and his pupils were just tiny dots in a sea of rich yellow.

And before she knew it, Shawn was pulled to the floor and a rush of things happened all at once. Her snarling partner moving to hit a down Shawn.

Shawn producing and then waving a single stem of purple flowers in Carlton's face.

Carlton hesitating in mid attack, giving Shawn the perfect opportunity to quickly grab a nearby glass vase and knock her partner out.

And through a span of seconds, she stood frozen with everyone else. Frozen, even when time continued for everyone else and Shawn had pulled her to the side as the paramedics appeared and wheeled an unconscious, slightly bleeding Carlton off to the ambulance, handcuffed to his stretcher. She had stayed staring at the glittering pieces of glass on the floor and half-listened as Shawn hastily told her some things before running off, which she completed in full before Carlton had a secure hospital room to himself.

She glanced at the lavenders.

So what scared her enough for her mind to not let go of those few intense minutes at Carlton's house?

Her gaze moved down to stare at her hands on the rail.

There had been something in his gaze overlapping his face, twisting the image she knew to something more...monstrous.

She had thought it was just a trick of the eyes, but then she had run across that piece of a letter hiding under the couch in his den area. Its words were smeared in places, but she got the gist of it.

**======= your memory is broken and only you can fix that, but this note is not to jog your memory of the past or explain how to use the collar. I'm writing to send a warning. ===coming after you and everyone ====== for something I=====. Just know his sanity has reached a breaking point and it's all my fault. I've somehow =================== is deteriorating rapidly. =================================================== ====================. Hopefully in your position, you will be able to stop him from uncovering everything and using the information ========. Just please use caution around him. He knows ===== weakness and ======= block you have set cannot stand up ======. And if that happens, I know I won't be there to stop you this time nor will anyone, for that matter, be able to stop you. Carlton, do not let the past repeat and do not fall back into the urge. Always remember who you are now.**

And in the last part of the letter, there was a clearly written signature…

She sighed.

The smeared letter shed little light on what was going on and created even more questions. It was very tempting to give the letter to the tech guys and let them see what was missing and to fill in those blanks.

But she couldn't do it. The tech guys would instantly know who this was for and any personal information on Carlton was like gold in the station. She couldn't let something like this get out. It was clearly written for Carlton's eyes only.

She sighed again, looking down at her hands as they nervously slid across the plastic rail.

"_Maybe this time when he wakes up, he'll be back to normal and I can ask him about it."_

But another part of her kept bringing up the fact that he hadn't been normal since that day they were taken hostage at the warehouse and that at his house she had probably seen a real glimpse of what was down that dark hallway…

What was lying underneath the surface…

What her partner could change into…

Her mind immediately pulled up glowing amber eyes and sharp teeth.

She shook her head and tightened her grip on the rails.

"_There is no way a person can change physically like that."_

It had to be an effect of watching too many horror movies. She had to stay rational and drugs were rational. Group hallucinations caused by gas were also rational, along with Shawn playing tricks.

"_When would Shawn have time to set up something so intricate?"_ An internal voice asked.

"_He would have plenty of time."_ She answered.

"_How? You were right there with him."_

"_Carlton is in on this too, and Gus."_

"_Carlton playing a practical joke? As if."_

"_I-"_

"Can you stop that? It's annoying."

Her head jerked up at the voice.

His eyes opened to look up at her. They were a bit glassy, but alert enough.

"Carlton?" She asked, suddenly unsure of whether or not this was the partner she knew. She admitted; she had figured the color changes had to signify something. She just didn't know exactly what it signified.

Now for the life of her, she couldn't see his eye color. She knew it was a dark color.

"_At least, it isn't that yellow color?" _She thought to herself and then shivered when her dream popped into her mind.

A hand softly gripped hers making her jump back and out of her thoughts.

"I didn't mean to scare you. But you need to stop, it's annoying."

She looked at him in confusion. "Stop what?"

"Stop thinking whatever you're thinking. It's suffocating-"

"What?! Now you're a mind reader?"

"No. I can feel your worry-"

"Well don't you think I have the right to worry about a friend?" She snapped.

He sighed and turned his head slightly to stare straight ahead.

It irked her.

"Carlton." She stated softly, trying to change her tone. "You should know. Everyone is worry about you."

"Not everyone." He corrected. "And you shouldn't be either. No one should."

She huffed before flatly ignoring the comment. "What is going on? You need to tell me." She could see his eyes searching the room. "We are the only ones here." She stated to him.

"Even if we are alone I still can't say anything."

"Why not?"

* * *

><p>He stared at her.<p>

He wasn't about to divulge. It was a private matter and it wasn't something he could truly share with anyone. And if anyone did find out, usually by way of his carelessness, they always ended up badly hurt or worse.

Not by his hands.

Well…

He really couldn't say that.

So he couldn't outright say what he was thinking, just as he couldn't explain what exactly was going with him. Although he really wanted to because frankly stuff like this had been eating on him since he stumbled on it many years ago.

So he knew. Hell, he knew as much about this as a certain person who told him about it when it was much too late.

Very much too late.

Her voice cut into his thoughts.

"Unless you're not Carlton-"

The comment caught him off guard and he frowned.

"What makes you think I'm not him?" He asked softly. "Don't let that psychic get into your head." He spat. "He doesn't know anything-"

* * *

><p>"Then tell me what's going on from your own mouth. Because with what you've done and what I've seen-"<p>

"I already told you why I was acting so rash."

"But you really didn't explain anything." She threw back. "You had promised to explain after you got cleaned up and you didn't."

Carlton opened his mouth to respond and she stopped him.

"Leaving a note for me to decipher doesn't count as explaining. What exactly happened at the station and at your house? Why are you pushing our help away? Why is Shawn your target and what does that even mean? What exactly is your connection to these killers? Why did you kill Dawson and hurt Goober? Why do I feel like you are my partner, but at the same time you're not?" Her rambling questions trailed off.

She wanted to continue, but her voice stuck in her throat at thinking about the nightmare, the fangs and glowing eyes, and the inhuman shadow...

* * *

><p>Silence fell.<p>

They stared at each other for a good twenty seconds before he turned his head away from her to look at the wall.

"I can't answer." He mumbled.

He didn't want to look at her. She wouldn't understand. No one who hadn't lived his life would understand. But he soon found a firm hand grasping his face and forcing him to look back at her.

Despite the cloud of unease and fear that hovered over her, he could see she was determined to know the why, the what, the how, and everything.

He knew she was not going to give up easily, considering he was strapped to a bed and probably surrounded by people who could easily subdue him in this medicated state.

He shook his head out of her hands, refusing to give her an answer.

He also knew she would get one sooner or later because of the nature of the rising problem at hand and because his gentle push had been more than just 'gentle.'

But if he could keep the answers a little longer, then his reputation wouldn't change in her eyes.

She would continue to consider him a who instead of a _what_.

And that was how _he_ wanted it to be.

For his partner and friend.

* * *

><p>She focused her eyes on Carlton, who started talking calmly while facing away from her.<p>

"It would be best if you, that **psychic**, and his friend just forget about helping me and let me handle this situation."

She heard the harsh spat of the word "psychic" and she frowned as he continued.

"As my partner, I am responsible for your safety and I can't guarantee you will be safe." He paused. "So just let me handle this."

Carlton stopped talking and silence again took over.

She couldn't bring herself to respond. One wrong thing said and he would lock up stronger than he was now.

But the answers to all of this were right there. Her mind was turning and twisting trying to find the best way to approach this. Carlton wasn't some typical suspect that would crack under pressure nor was he someone that would willingly give information when asked nicely.

She had adversely tried both methods and, in turn, it had pushed him further away. Just maybe there was another way… A way to catch him in the corner… And that letter would be the key, but first she would give him one more chance to answer.

She grasped his face again and leaned in a bit on the rail. She was not going to let this opportunity slip away or allow him to clam up.

Her blue eyes met his eyes straight on. She could see the green color reflecting back.

"_So this is not her Carlton."_ She noted in thought before articulating. "You are going to tell me what is going on. You are going to tell me what your connection to Leo and his group is. And you are going to tell me why Shawn is a target."

Their eyes locked in a mental struggled.

And she soon realized it was going nowhere, so she decided to take a different direction.

"If you're not going to answer my questions. I guess I'll have to give this letter that I found to the Chief. I know she would be very interested in it, considering what it says."

He didn't react at all until she said…

"Carlton, don't repeat the past. Remember who you are **now**." She placed emphasis on the 'now' and then leaned all the way forward visibly making him uncomfortable and whispered in his ear.

"Signed Charles Lassiter."

Then she pulled away just enough to see his wide green eyes lock onto hers, but not enough to leave his personal bubble.

"Now what do you have to say about that?"


	41. Ch40 A Case of DID and TMI? (Part 1)

**AN: I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to update this. I kinda lost my way with this chap and tried very hard to get this whole hospital scene written and through before posting, but it got stuck at the very end. So I just told myself chop it, update now, and have the part 2 ready later.**

**And it didn't help that apparently my poor Muse for this story got tied up and thrown in a deep pit by another character who wanted the position of Muse to communicate with his boo in another story. *sigh* My brain is a battleground. Anyway, this chapter and the next one are dedicated to Jesse Wales because she threatened to strangle me through the computer if I didn't update soon. (which was about a month ago) hehe. Threats don't work… maybe a bag of gummy bears will :D Also she wanted some things to happen… Um, maybe they'll happen next chapter. I love drama. *toothy smile***

** Margaret: Yes I do remember you and wondered where you had disappeared to. Hopefully I can now stop trying to confuse and start giving answers. To everyone: Feel free to send emails or messages to me about questions or suggestions... or if you want to strangle me too for getting distracted. I don't mind at all. :D**

**Chapter 40 – A Case of DID and TMI? (Part 1)  
><strong>

Sometimes, he sworn Gus was more of the psychic at times.

He was so happy that he ran into his best friend downstairs, and in even more relief to see a huge brown paper bag of food in his hands. So his trip to the cafeteria was cancelled and he could hurry back up to Lassie's room to take up his position of Jules' protector again.

He smiled and bounced from toe to toe, waiting in the hallway for the elevator to arrive.

Gus gave him a sideways glance. "What are you so happy about?"

"I'm not really happy. I just want to get back to Jules." Seeing that the elevator was taking too long to come down and that no one was around, he stopped bouncing to look at Gus and the mysterious bag of delicious smelling food his arms. He inched closer and tried to snake his hand toward the bag to peek in, but Gus slapped his hand away.

"No Shawn. It's for Juliet."

His face saddened in betrayal. "What about me?" He whined.

His friend turned his focus back to the closed elevator doors, entirely ignoring his puppy dog look of sadness.

He turned away from Gus, pouting with folded arms and then turned back smiling when a question hit him. "Dude whatcha think?"

"What do I think about what Shawn?"

"You know. What do you think is going on with Lassie? Brainwash or possession?"

After a short paused, Gus answered, "I think you were right about Chief's theory. He's not programmed or brainwashed by Leo."

He smirked at his friend's admittance of him being right.

"But Lassiter's behavior seems to fit more like a dissociative identity disorder then possession." Gus continued, knowingly shooting down his personal theory with a smug look. He frowned at that, but he knew his friend was presenting his own theory.

"Dissocial what?" He asked as the elevator doors finally opened and a huge crowd of people left, leaving the elevator empty.

Gus shook his head, stepping in with him. "Dissociative identity disorder."

He pushed the button with the number seven on it and then looked at his friend with a big question mark on his face. It was enough for Gus to shake his head again.

"It's kind of like schizophrenia." Gus answered.

"Schizo-?"

"Multiple personalities like the case with that Robert guy."

"Oh. Why didn't you just say that in the beginning? So Lassie is going cuckoo." He stated.

Gus seemed to ignore his comment. "Maybe it's a side effect of the drug that Leo injected him with at the house and at the warehouse. And I'm also guessing the drug is affecting physical capabilities on top of mental ones. It would explain a lot. Maybe it's a type of steroid. But it doesn't explain the changes in eye color..." Gus rambled as the doors to the elevator opened to the seventh floor.

"Dude, I don't know all of what you just said, but it sounds like a good possibility." He said smiling and stepping out into the hallway. "Do you know how to fix it?"

"There are some medicines that can treat it like chlorpromazine and sertra-"

"Whatever Gus, as long as you know what needs to be done, so our grumpy Carlytown will be back in action." He said holding his fist out with a grin.

Gus looked at the fist and then hesitantly bump it with own fist. "But the medication isn't a quick fix and there's no guarantee it will work to neutralize what Leo's drug is and has done to Lassiter."

He looked at Gus. "Everything will work out eventually. It has to." He then rushed away in a brisk walk down the hall.

He had to tell Jules about the possible fix for Lassie. Once the detective was right in the head, they could focus on catching Leo because Lassie knew where to find Leo.

…The head detective just had to know.

Thinking about all the good and awesome things the plan could lead to, his smiling face grew, and as he entered the hospital room, he immediately felt both his smile and heart drop at the sight that met him. Gus looked just as shocked as he did when he entered right behind and stood next to him. His friend probably had the same idea running through his head.

As the door clicked close behind them, he realized he felt hurt. Forget what happened in the past few days, this hurt worst and he reacted to it like he usually reacted to something of this nature.

"You know," He saw Jules jerked away from Lassie when he spoke out. "You could've just told me you wanted some 'down time' with him. I would've been perfectly okay with it." He lied stepping further in the room.

Jules and Lassie kissing? That would've been a laugh if he could get the image out of his head.

"What are you talking about?" Jules asked standing fully up with hands gripping the rails again.

He looked away, out the window toward the skyline.

"Shawn-?"

"Aww, the psychic's feelings are hurt." A voice cooed interrupting Jules.

Glaring at the smiling person in the bed, he retorted with folded arms. "My feelings are not hurt."

"Oh yes they are." Lassie's smile grew bigger. "For a second, you thought we were an item."

"An item!?" Jules asked under his loud exclaim of "No, I did not!" He glanced at Jules before glaring back at the head detective. "…Even if I did just see you and Jules touching faces-"

"Shawn, hold up. We were doing no such thing." Jules exclaimed. "That," She continued, pointing toward Lassie. "Was me trying to get answers," she then turned giving a serious look at her partner, "from someone who was being so unhelpful."

Lassie's joyful expression fell flat and he turned to face the wall away from everyone.

"Oh no, you are not doing that again." Jules then forced Lassie to turn back to her. "You see Shawn. This is what I've been dealing with." She glanced at him and then back at Lassie. "Now Carlton, I'm not letting you go until you answer my last question."

Lassie looked up at her for a few quiet seconds before mumbling. "I have nothing to say."

"Oh you don't?" Jules shot back.

Lassie glared and Jules threw her own glare.

He stared at the scene with a weird sense of detachment. Jules and Lassie staring at each other with such intense annoyance, it was almost funny. But not too funny, there was still a heavy cloud of uncertainty hanging over everyone's head. There was no telling when the head detective would…

What was the word to describe it?

He thought on it for a quick second before coming up with the word 'flip.'

"_No, more like murder someone else in cold blood."_ A part of him spoke up. He pushed that part of himself away just as he caught the tail end of Lassie's proclamation.

"Why don't you get the psychic to pull all the answers out of my head?" Lassie sneered. "If he is really psychic..."

"We can do that." Jules responded before looking away from Lassie and looking at him. "Shawn, can you get a reading on Carlton?"

For a second, he stood there like a deer caught in the headlights before mentally pumping himself up and answering with a smile. "Sure."

Gus gave him a worried look, but didn't say anything.

Closing his eyes, he took a couple of practiced deep breaths and then raised a couple of fingers to each side of his temple. He allowed a few seconds to pass as he gathered his thoughts.

"I'm seeing something…" He said. Then cocked his head to the side and asked, "…trees?" He nodded. "Yes. I see many, many, many trees. They're going by so fast. Why are they going so fast?" With eyes still closed, he turned in a circle with his right hand out. He heard Gus exclaim a "Hey!" as his friend ducked out of the way. Holding back his laugh, he continued forward feeling the walls. "I'm running." His eyes snapped open. "That's why. I'm running."

He jogged around the small room.

"I feel pain." He grunted a little and moved his body as if he was getting punched. He paused next to the bed across from Jules, trying to decide if he should lay hands on the salt-n-pepper head of the detective.

Curious green eyes quickly turned into a frown as if daring him to do it.

His hand moved slowly forward, then thought better of it, and took a tiny step back with fingers back on his temple. "Now I'm seeing colored liquids, glass, tubes… A labrador… No, no, not a labrador." He twirled his hands around trying to find the right word.

"You mean a laboratory." Jules spoke out.

He pointed to her. "Yes that's what I'm seeing."

"A laboratory? What are you getting at?" Jules asked.

* * *

><p>He watched the psychic flop around and weave a story involving drugs, kidnapping, dark family affairs, murder, experimentation, and… possession?<p>

He internally shook his head at the antics. _"Stupid psychic. Like I'll let someone kidnap and do experiments on me."_

But the psychic was creating a pretty good story that was only partially true. He was shocked to say the least at some of the details the boy did know.

He let out a small sigh.

They still wouldn't fully understand what he had to go through, even if he was allowed to talk about everything that had happened.

Hell.

He knew exactly which part in his story they would latch onto and he knew after it was all said and done, they wouldn't look at him the same way.

"_Just like him… He couldn't deal with it and that's why I exist... To keep the pain away."_ He stared at the foot of his bed, internally disheartened by the truth of the thought.

"I'm hearing the name of a killer… Ch… ch–Chocolate!" He heard the psychic stammer continuing with his theatrical story. "No that's not it. Army? Bravo. Charlie. No. no. Charles? Yes that's it. Charles. Last name… Lassiter."

His head popped up at the name.

First the woman, now the psychic. He knew where she got her information from, but the psychic… Where did he get his from?

"Charles Lassiter is the one that killed Leo's wife." The boy continued, defiantly stating a little too smug for his tastes.

His eyes narrowed at the puppy's accusation. "Charles did not kill anyone, and where did you get that name from?"

"From the spirits, of course, and from the guy whose body you took." The puppy then pointed to the corner of the room by the window.

No one was there.

The puppy turned back to look at him with a goofy grin on his face. "Isn't that right, Charles?"

He saw the psychic's friend shake his head out of the corner of his eye as the psychic continued.

"You saw Leo in the woods. He caught you by surprise, roughed you up a little, and injected you with an experimental drug. It loosened some repressed memory and BAM! We have a different Lassie, who happens to go by the name of Charles."

"You are an idiot." He scoffed. "I did not get roughed up by Leo. If anything, I roughed up his lackeys when they decided to fight me and I am not Charles. I know my **grandfather** wouldn't intentionally kill someone for power. He was a powerhouse all by himself."

"But he and you-"

He sent a special venomous glare his way. "Do not talk ill of him. I will rip your tongue out of your mouth."

"And how do you intend to do that?" The psychic shot back.

"I have my ways." He stated coldly, keeping the psychic's gaze locked onto his.

The boy stood frozen under his stare. He didn't relax the gaze until he felt **him** start to stir from somewhere in the depth of his subconscious. As the puppy scrambled away to stand beside his friend at the foot of the bed, he felt **him** go back to sleep.

"I don't take too kindly to people, who bad mouth my grandfather." He continued. "If you were really psychic, you would know what kind of life I had before. My grandfather was the only one there to pull me out of the deepest pit of that hell-"

"So you're a demon from hell."

He clenched his teeth at the psychic's comment, trying to keep himself from breaking the straps and jumping out of the bed to rip off a certain someone's head.

"_He wouldn't like that."_ He reminded himself, balling his fists.

"Um… Shawn." The psychic's friend jumped in. "I think he means figuratively."

"Huh? Lassie goes figure skating?"

That was it.

"No you idiotic puppy! My grandfather is the reason why I'm alive today and not still wasting away in some cell!"

Silent fell like a heavy blanket. His heart monitor continued its steady beeping.

And he froze. _"Did I just say that? I did __**not**__ just say that."_

But the shock on everyone face was enough proof that he had in fact said it.

"Cell?"

The floating question made him almost physically kick himself.

His eyes scanned the group and for once he didn't know what to do.

"_Why did that come out? He doesn't even know about that."_

Silence hung in the air for a long time.

His mind was turning. This was one of the things he wanted to avoid at the station, other than leaving a pile of dead bodies.

So what should he do? What could he do?

He glanced out the window. The city lights and darkened buildings were blocking any calming qualities of the night sky, so his eyes soon found their way to stare at his lap.

* * *

><p>She looked at her partner sitting in the bed. That outburst had answered some questions, but it created even more.<p>

Carlton Lassiter in a cell? A person so strict about following the rules.

Why would he be locked up?

Her mind twirled. _"This has got to be some kind of joke."_

She looked at Shawn and Gus who held similar expression of surprise.

"_Nope. No joke." _She thought.

"I don't understand." She finally managed to say, looking back at the person in the bed. Carlton's head stayed bowed staring at his lap.


	42. Ch41 A Case of DID and TMI? (Part 2)

**Chapter 41** **– A Case of DID and TMI? (Part 2)**

The hospital room was silent with just the steady beeping of the heart monitor. Carlton's words were hard to take in and seemed highly impossible, especially for the kind of man her partner was. Six years' worth of knowing each other…

It was another thing to add to her list of unbelievables. _"Maybe he is talking about a different kind of cell."_ Her mind contemplated.

Another part of her jumped in, whispering for her to check his background to know for sure.

She mentally shook her head at that. She knew the police force wouldn't hire someone with a criminal record that had jail time attached to it. "_And if they did hire him knowing he had such a record, then Carlton wouldn't have such a high position of authority." _

But that other part of her still pushed for her to do her own personal background check of the man who was her partner for six years.

Her thoughts stopped at the soft click of the door opening. It resounded loudly in the room, making everyone that was standing turned their head to watch as a nurse in dark blue scrubs came in. The woman had short, dark hair cropped to follow the curve of her distinctly Latina face.

"I'm just here to check on my patient." She stated, walking in before turning to face the bed. "Oh you're awake. No wonder your vitals are doing a rollercoaster."

Carlton gave the woman a quick glance before continuing to stare at his lap. There was a troubled look on his face and the nurse picked up on his distress immediately. She turned a glaring eye at everyone. "You're not in here questioning him, are you? You were told specifically to not question him when he first wakes up. It causes unnecessary stress."

"Ah… Ms.?" She started.

"Marina." The nurse answered.

"Ms. Marina. I'm not sure what orders you have been given, but me and my colleagues are here to comfort and protect Detective Lassiter." She said motioning to the still bowed person in the bed.

Marina glanced at Carlton and then back at her. "If you must comfort Mr. Lassiter, please refrain from giving him anymore bad news."

"Bad news?" She mouthed.

"Happy people tend to heal a lot faster than depressed ones. Now let me check on him." The nurse stated, putting on light blue gloves and moving to the side of the bed opposite of her.

She watched as Marina muted the heart monitor and checked his IV drip.

* * *

><p><em>What can I do?"<em> He thought staring at his blanket-covered lap while watching the nurse in his peripheral as she did her check on the equipment to his right. _"That was a stupid move telling them about the cell. Why did that come out? I need to get out of here and fix this mess. But how?"_

He was strapped tightly down to the bed and there wasn't a way for him to break the bands without some slack in them. He knew that even if he was to get out of the restraints, being injured and medicated would not only delay any attempt to escape from the guarded hospital room, but also help in his recapture.

"_So what to do?"_ He repeated, cycling through ideas. Not a single cohesive idea came to together in his head. All his thoughts kept looping back to the psychic's story… and his slip-up...

"_I wish my life was as simple as theirs and didn't hold such darkness." _He thought.

"If your life was so simple, it would be so boring."

His head popped up at the familiar voice. He looked over to his left to see a dark-haired girl sitting on the couch with head down drawing on a notepad.

"Isn't that right, Carlton?" She looked up at him while putting her pencil down beside her.

His jaw dropped in shocked. "What the hell?" He whispered. "How are you-? _There's just no way_."

Smiling, she turned the notepad toward him. "Can you see what I drew?"

The paper was blank and she read the confusion on his face.

Her smile faltered a bit. "I didn't think so." She said placing the item on the cushion next to her. "It's not as easy as you thought, huh?" With full smile placed back, she stood up and walked the few feet to stand beside the unaware, blond detective.

"You don't look so good." The dark-haired girl said reaching over to play in his hair.

He moved away before she could make contact. "How are you here?_"_ He threw out.

"How am I here?" She asked curiously, stopping her hand in the air. "You know why I'm here."

"No I don't."

She smiled slightly, placing her hand in his hair and rubbing it. His eyes widened when he felt the soft massage.

"Don't tell me you haven't realized that you don't know everything and that you can't fix anything."

She pulled her hand away from his head as his eyes wandered around the room to find it suddenly empty.

"Just because you've accepted and understood what had happened doesn't mean that _he_ has."

"_Promise me, Carlton!"_

He flinched at the shriek, but the girl never moved her mouth. She just continued to smile that same smile he remembered.

"And it looks like you never took that final step, either."

He frowned.

"And I don't think you ever will. Not until everyone is on the same page, at least." She tapped the plastic railing of the bed a couple of times and the tightness of the straps disappeared. He quickly sat up moving his legs over the side of the bed opposite from the girl.

"Things can't stay separate and hidden forever." The girl stated behind him.

He pulled out the tubes from his right wrist and gave a quick glance behind him at the girl.

"They have to stay separate and hidden." He responded back before mumbling out a "That's what he wants" and then letting the free tubes drop to the ground. "So what am I to do about that?"

A bout of quiet settled between them. He saw her shrug out the corner of her eye.

"I don't know. Why are you asking me? I'm just your shadow." And with that statement she disappeared in a puff of dark gray vapor, leaving him alone in the space that only looked like a hospital room.

* * *

><p>"Mr. Lassiter, I am now going take your check your wounds." Marina said.<p>

Carlton did nothing. His gaze was still aimed downward at his lap and the nurse took that as a sign of acceptance to start her check.

"I need you to lay back for me." Marina said placing a light hold on her partner and guiding him to lay back.

Carlton still did nothing. It was strange that he wasn't saying anything. But once he was laid back, she could see why he wasn't doing anything. His eyes were half lidded and very glassy staring out at nothing.

"It's okay. There's nothing wrong." Marina said giving her a quick glance. "The morphine must've kicked in."

She gave an "Oh" and then looked at Shawn and Gus, who were in the middle of a hushed argument between each other. She shook her head. It was quickly escalating in loudness. She opened her mouth to quiet them, but the nurse spoke first.

"Gentlemen, please if you must be loud, go do it in the waiting room. It's right down the hallway."

They gave each other a look before saying "ok" and then started to head out the door.

"Jules I'll be right back before Lassie wakes up." Shawn added and left the room.

She sighed and turned her sights back to the nurse and Carlton to see the blanket rolled down to his waist and Marina unfastening the restraints around his right wrist and across his stomach.

"Hey, wait! What are you doing?" She exclaimed hurrying around to where the nurse was.

"Mr. Lassiter is asleep and will be for a while. This is best time to a thorough check of his wounds." Marina answered. "This isn't my first at-risk patient. I know what to do, so please calm down Detective."

After noting that her partner's eyes were close and he wasn't responding when she poked his covered leg, she nodded her head and stepped back to give Marina space, but kept up her guard just in case.

**AN: So… Not much happened as far as answers go, eh? Mmm, I coulda sworn there was more… I need a break from climbing over that huge writer's wall anyway. …Ah nope, forget it. I think I'll go work on ch43. Let me know how life is and if there are any numbering issues. Oh here's a little poem about some things. Maybe it's important. Or maybe (as Lassie likes to say) it's pure nonsense that can only be created from a Spencer. *shrugs***

**Many paths of dirt lay with grass set a side.**

**Does it really matter in which one you abide?**

_~1~1~1~_

**Never pick the route that is paved in pure gold.**

**For pretty things aren't what will make you bold. **

**Don't ever pick the trail to the bottomless pit**

**Because you'll need more than a flame being lit.**

**Pick the route of fresh flowers, lavenders in the wind,**

**Of tranquil and wild things buried from within.**

_~1~1~1~_

**Stroll the distant hallways, there are solutions to be found.**

**Have at that open door, but listen for its sound.**

**Hospital rooms are yelling, very deep from the past.**

**The woods are howling, heavy feet pounding fast.**

**Sandy beach is calling, gentle waves hitting land.**

**A certain house is shouting, give out a helping hand. **

_~1~1~1~_

**Thirty years of lies are buried in the ground.**

**Amber protects the bodies in each leaf-covered mound. **

**Emerald isn't a know-it-all, but gets the job done.**

**Indigo will know eventually and can join in the fun.**

**What is this? What a strange thing there be,**

**To see a lion carrying a laurel tree.**


	43. Ch42 Rolling in the Deep

**AN: Thanks to those that are still with me on this project of mine and to those that have left a review. A special thanks to Jesse Wales for literally staring me down through the web to make me sit and finish this chapter, and for giving the final decision to not split this scene into two parts. Also a special thanks to PineappleHead for analyzing my poem in the last chapter. :D This chap bounces right off the same POV from Chapter 38(2), so happy reading.**

**Chapter 42 – Rolling in the Deep**

"Nothing but doors and hallways." He groaned into the muzzle wrapped around his face.

After the bright light had subsided, he had found himself standing back in the hallway staring at a blank wall where the fake Chief of Police door had been. There was no sign of that girl and it irritated him to no end. He had really thought she was the ticket out of this weird place.

Now he was stuck in an endless hallway with no way to open any of the doors. He had tried for twenty minutes straight to open one door. No such luck. All of them had rounded doorknobs.

"I hate this straitjacket." He mumbled to himself.

No amount of police training could have prepared him for getting out of this stupid contraption.

Handcuffs. Yes.

Guy pointing a gun. Yes.

Hostage situations. (Even if he couldn't get out of Leo's zip ties. But if it was rope, then…) Yes.

Once this was over he was going to make sure the rookies under him knew how to escape stuff like this. Houdini their butts out.

So why couldn't he Houdini his butt out of this? They made it look so easy on TV.

He gave up trying to push the straitjacket over his head and started back walking down the hallway.

"More doors… and what is this? Some stairs." He stated sarcastically, walking right pass the rectangle hole in the wall.

Having been wandering the place for hours, it was the first time he came across the stairs. But he flatly refused to take the stairs, it led downward… most likely toward that black thing, and he would rather compliment Spencer and throw him a party at his house than to confront that thing. It had oozed an air of hate, anger, and a need for destruction.

…Something he remembered feeling right before he passed out back at the station. It was all he could remember, nothing of what he was doing in the station or even how he got to the station from his house…

"_Wait a minute." _He thought, pausing in his walk at having realized a key detail. _"How did I get to my house from Leo's house? …And wasn't I shot and stabbed?"_

He didn't feel any pain but he knew it had happened.

His eyes widened.

What if he was dead and this was hell?

"_Because there's no way heaven would look like this."_ He glanced around.

Did he really lead such a life to end up in hell?

"_No."_ He thought forcefully. _"I saved lives. I brought bad guys to Lady Justice to pay for their awful deeds. Is this what I deserve?"_

He didn't think so.

"_So what is this place?"_

Taking a step forward, he felt something crunch under his foot. He stopped and looked down to see a wrinkled up paper on the floor. Stepping back and crouching down, he read the surprisingly clear message typed on the paper.

_**To live toward the future, one must journey through the past**_

_**Correct the wrongs, dress the wounds, and understand what won't last.**_

"What is that supposed to mean?" He asked himself as he stood up while still staring down at the paper.

Silence met his question and then a distinctly feminine voice lightly echoed his name from down the hallway. He looked up from the paper. No one was in the hallway with him.

"_Maybe, it was my imagination."_ He thought, looking around.

"Carlton." The voice hummed again.

Now he knew it wasn't from his head. It sounded soft and familiar.

He ventured further down to see one slightly opened door in the long, endless hallway. Bright yellow light filtered through the crack. He cautioned at the door and peeked in.

Inside was a woman with long, dark brown hair. She was sitting in a white chair facing an open window. Light beige curtains fluttered in a small breeze. The woman turned at his intrusion with surprise, which soon turned into happiness.

"Carlton." She hummed placing a gray-colored book on the table at her side.

"Victoria?" He asked softly and in disbelief. His muffled voice didn't travel very far, but she seemed to hear him perfectly well.

He watched fascinated as she stood up from the chair and took a couple of steps toward him. The sunlight caressing her skin made her look like an angel sent from above.

Her arms outstretched beckoning for him to come in. Captivated, he couldn't keep his legs from entering the room. The door clicked close softly behind him, but nothing matter as they met in the center of the room taking each other in.

"I love you, Carlton." She said swinging her arms around his shoulders.

"I love you too." He kissed her or tried to. The stupid mask thing was in the way. He frowned.

"Having trouble?" She merrily asked, lightly tapping the muzzle before brandishing a medium sized, gold key for him to see.

His eyes lit up as his head nodded frantically. "Can you unlock this, Tori?" He remembered from what the girl had said that the straitjacket was padlocked. He didn't know if the muzzle was too.

Stepping back, she placed the key to her cheek in thought. "I can unlock something with this, but…" She said twirling the key. "I want to know something first." A devilish glint flashed in her eyes. "I want to make sure you deserve this."

His face fell. "What!?" He whispered in disbelief.

"I have some questions that need to be answered." She continued turning away from him. "I just have to know."

"Know what?"

She twirled the key in her hand. "Do you truly believe that I'm one half of you and you are half of me?"

He nodded his head. "Yes."

She turned back toward him, her face full of indifference. "Do you see me as more than just an obsession of someone from your past?"

His head cocked to the side in confusion. "What is that supposed to mean? I don't have an obsession with someone from my past."

Rolling her eyes, she ignored him and asked another question. "Can you really say you love me?"

His eyes softened. "I love you, Tori. More than the world itself."

"No you don't."

"Huh?"

"You don't love me. You never did."

"That's not true. Why would you say something like that?"

"You never let me in."

"I did. You've seen pieces of me that no one, not even my mother, knew about."

She shook her head. "Carlton, you had my heart in your hands and I confided everything to you. I risked family bonds. I left my career to be with you. I worried for you, day and night. I sacrificed a lot to be with you. I gave you nine years of my life and what have you given me in return?"

He stayed silent.

"Three measly years of your attention before your title became your actual wife!"

He looked away.

"You had everything!" She yelled out before softly adding, "So how is your current 'wife' treating you?"

"Better than how you're treating me now." He muttered.

"How dare you!" She pushed him in the chest hard, making him stumbled back a little. "It was your fault our marriage didn't last! You ungrateful asshole!"

Looking back at her, he felt hurt, but it never showed on his face. It was blank as always.

"We could've had children, if you wanted." He answered. "God knows I was ready."

Her hands closed in tight fists. "It wasn't about having children, **Carlton**! It was about taking breaks from your job, going on vacations away from Santa Barbara, cuddling in front of the TV, holding hands in public! Doing what married people do!" Her anger tapered off. "And being there for me… how you use to be."

He couldn't turn away from the woman. "I was there for you… as a provider, just how I'm supposed to be."

"Stuff can only do so much." She replied glaring at him.

"I tried to do things you wanted. I sat in movies. We walked the beach. We did stuff together."

"But all of you weren't there." She quickly retorted. "I could tell you had your job on your mind each and every time we did something together."

"What do you expect!? My profession has time limits and people die when I let that time expire. How would you feel if a child died a horrible death because you took thirty minutes to eat lunch?" He glared at the floor. "I don't like failure."

"That is another problem: failure. You could've passed a case to someone else. You don't have to solve every case that comes through the station. You're not superman."

"No I'm not, but I am going to try."

"Why? Because you can't move on from what happened to her."

"…I don't know what you're talking about."

"You do know! She's the one you really wanted!"

"Who is **she**?" He asked trying to keep his voice from rising with hers.

"You weren't attracted to me as a whole. You saw pieces of her in me, just as you saw something of her in your partner Lucinda. What about the other women you decided to cheat on me with? Did you see her in them, too!?" She spat.

He shook his head glaring at his ex-wife. "Barry was the only one and I only did it because you cheated on me first."

Her mouth dropped in shock.

"Yes I knew." He stated more smugly than he intended to.

"Well you kept leaving late at night, saying your job was calling you and you wouldn't return until almost daybreak."

"That-"

"That was not your job. I had followed you out of the house a couple of nights. You never took your car or any of your police stuff. You would just disappear."

"I would just disappear? I don't remember any of that."

She looked as confused as he was. "You don't remember?"

He shook his head.

In suspicion, she stared into his eyes for a few moments. He stared back unable to turn away. Some strange electricity passed between them and she held her mouth in shock. She looked like she just saw something horrifying.

"I'm sorry, Carlton." She said taking a few steps away from him. "I didn't know."

"Didn't know what?" He was confused at the sudden attitude change.

She continued, despite his question. "No wonder you are so obsessed with her and kept to yourself. You-," She said pointing to him. "I'm so sorry. Please forgive me." She pleaded frantically.

"_Please forgive me." _His thoughts repeated like a distant memory.

_Sadness. _

He shook his head of the thought and feeling before looking at his ex-wife. Tears were streaming from her eyes.

"I didn't understand." She muttered. "I'm sorry."

He didn't know what was going on and he didn't really know what to do. Crying women always made him feel awkward and he struggled to find the right move to make. Victoria was a fragile woman, but hardy nonetheless. Anything could set off a torrent of fury, even greater than his, or cause her to drown in her own river of tears.

"_Like now."_ He looked away in hopelessness finding the carpet suddenly more interesting than the woman in front of him.

"_It's okay to show your sensitive side, sometimes." _A familiar voice floated in his head._ "You don't always have to be the big and bad protector. Try it. You might find yourself feeling a heavy weight leave..." _

He remembered that.

It was some random, unnecessary advice given to him by O'Hara during a slow time between cases. He had ignored it as always, but now it seemed more than necessary. Maybe he could try it. It wouldn't hurt and her advice had never led him wrong before. Despite appearances, he did listen.

He looked back at the weeping woman. "It's okay. I'm the one that should be apologizing." He started slowly.

Her wet eyes focused on him.

"I took you for granted. I didn't realize what I had until you walked out of my life at the courthouse and I was left staring at an empty bedside that night. No one is perfect and I know I was a jerk to you, one of the few people who saw the real me." He glanced down before meeting her eyes.

An image of that girl flew through his mind. Her smiling face swinging at a park around the corner from his childhood home. It was parallel to the smile he got when he had first entered the room.

Pushing the confusing memory away, he stepped up to his ex-wife and wrapped his jacket-covered arms around her. "And I'm sorry to have put you through that. I hope you live a happier life without me."

"Thank you." She whispered in his chest.

He stayed, with arms wrapped around her, until she made the tiniest inclination that it was time to let go. His arms awkwardly let go and dropped to his side.

A part of him still didn't want to let go, but now it felt smaller and less demanding than before, like the sudden release of his arms from the straitjacket restraints.

He mentally sighed looking at his ex-love. She looked back wiping the tears from her eyes.

"So what now?" He asked with a slight shrug. It sounded insensitive, but she knew him and his ways and the slight smile she gave was a testament.

"Now…" She reached out for him and rubbed his jacket-covered arm. "It's time for you to wake up."

He looked at her in confusion. "Wake up?"

Victoria nodded her head, dreamily. Her hand slid down, pulled up his still covered hand, and placed the gold key in it. "Yes wake up." She then pointed behind him. He followed her hand and turned around to see a brick wall with a red-colored, wooden door. Solitary Confinement was stamped on it in big, bold, black letters.

"Victoria, where did this door come from?" He turned back around to see that she was gone. "Victoria?" His confused eyes looked around before looking down at the key. "I'm guessing I use this on the door." He said to himself as he walked up to the door.

He fitted the key in the lock and turned. The lock mechanism clicked signaling that it was unlocked. He placed a hand on the handle and turned. But before he could push it open, thick red liquid started crawling from under the door and pooling under his feet.

He stared in wonder at the strange phenomenon "What the-" Suddenly he started to sink into the red puddle. He didn't even have time to struggle as it engulfed him.

He was freefalling, looking up at the red above, and not at the darkness below.

He was dropping deeper into the black void of nowhere. A place he felt was one of despair. Such intense despair. There was also an underlying hatred too. Hatred towards what? He didn't know. His mind was focus on the sound of the wind against his ears and the steady growing cold at his back as he kept looking up at the red that was growing black, ever black with despair… the deeper he fell…

"So Carlton." A male voice stated professionally in front of him through the now fading blackness. "Do you understand why you are here?"

"What?" He sleepily asked, blinking away the blackness and clearing his vision to see a man sitting calmly in front of him. It was obvious to him the man was a doctor of some sort. The white coat and clipboard, along with the 'typical' doctor look, said so.

"What is going on!?" He asked realizing he was currently strapped down to the chair he sat in. He could see he was wearing white scrubs again, no straitjacket, and that he was in some bare gray room. A metal door with a rectangular, meshed window was behind the doctor.

"Carlton." The doctor said adjusting his glasses. "It isn't nice to answer a question with a question."

He struggled against the straps.

"Do you understand why you are here, Carlton?"

He ignored the man and continued to struggle.

"Please just answer the question. I don't want to call for assistance."

He glared. "I don't know why I'm here! I was just talking to my ex-wife and then falling…" His words trailed off. "But before that I was wandering through endless hallways! I don't what the hell is going on!"

"Okay." The doctor stated calmly and wrote something on his clipboard.

"What are you writing!?"

"Nothing important, Carlton."

"That looks important to me."

"Can you recall this person?" A photo was lifted from the clipboard so he could see. A teenager with dark colored hair smiled as she rode a bike down a street.

"That's the girl I ran into in the hallway and at my house. I don't know her name." He said.

"What about this person?" The doctor showed a photo of another teenager. This one, a boy with blond hair and red shirt with a blue star. The boy was laughing at a crying kid lying on the ground.

"Why are you asking me all of these questions?"

"Carlton, do you know this person?"

"No." He snapped.

The doctor's eyebrow rose and then scribbled something else on the paper. "Okay." The doctor said closing the gray folder in his hand. "That's all for today." The man then stood up and left the room.

Noticing the difference, his eyes widened. "Hey wait!" He yelled. The door closed and the doctor never came back. "That folder was a case file." He muttered. "But it was a clipboard before…"

The straps holding him in place suddenly popped loose and he stood up looking around the small gray room. There was a plain bed with one pillow behind him against the back wall and a small table against the wall to his left. He looked at the door to his front. It was the only exit out the room and he walked over, looked out the small window, and then tried to open the door. It was locked.

"What is happening here? I'm so confused." He said scratching his head. Turning, he looked out at the room and spotted a white piece of paper in the chair the doctor had been sitting in. He picked up the note up and read it.

_**Memories are what you make them, a splitting river of seams.**_

_**Face your fears, dry the tears, and piece the broken beams.**_

"This is just like that other note." He mumbled, looking up to see three sheets of paper nailed to the wall over the table that wasn't there before. Each paper had black ink smears shaped in different patterns.

It looked like the inkblots that one psychologist had showed him to get him to understand his most inner thoughts. It was a bunch of rubbish, if he ever heard one. He could never make out anything in the messy smears.

But now, the pictures were very clear.

The first one on the far left was a baby lying on its back with arms reaching up toward the viewer. There were two bare nails in between the picture of the baby and the fourth nailed inkblot, a picture of an intricate heart. The fifth and last, on the far right, had what looked like a police badge.

His eyebrow rose at that.

On the table there was one picture with two blotted circles and smaller interconnecting circles linking the two bigger circles.

"Those look like… handcuffs?" He said picking up the picture to study it. Noticing a small hole at the top of the paper, he shrugged and placed the picture on the second nail. It stayed for a second before strangely falling down. He picked it up again and put it back. It fell off the nail again.

"I know I'm putting you on the nail right." He looked at the still intact hole on the paper. "Maybe there's something wrong with the nail." He said glancing at the tiny metal before deciding to place the paper on the third nail. It stayed and he jumped back with a yell when a woman suddenly stumbled back beside him and hit the wall next to the table. The woman was dressed in a white nurse outfit and she looked transparent fizzling in and out like an old movie.

"Carlton!" A man's voice yelled gruffly from behind him. "Calm down!"

His head jerked away from the woman and turned. He was surprised to see that the drab, gray room had changed into a hospital room with the bed in the center and medical equipment next to it.

He was also no longer alone, but the other five people in the room were slowly moving through their actions with the same fizzle, transparency as the woman, who was now slowly pushing off the wall next to him.

Across the room from him, there was a doctor yelling while holding his nose. By the door, there were two officers he didn't recognize. They were reaching for a teenage boy, who was standing next to the bed facing the doctor. A metal tray was in the boy's hand and he was also yelling. The boy's face was facing away from him, so he eased away from the table to get a better look. The move put the bed between him and the scene playing slowly before him.

He was very surprised to see that the teenager… was a younger version of himself dressed in black shorts and a light gray T-shirt. There was no denying that it was him.

"What is this?" He mumbled taking a step forward, toward the bed.

Suddenly, the scene clicked into normal speed.

"I don't want to go anywhere with them! I've done nothing wrong!" His younger self yelled, putting the metal tray between him and two officers as he backed up to the bed.

"Kid. Stop resisting. We're just going to ask you a few questions about your disappearance. That is all." One officer stated.

"But why? Getting lost in the Prairie Woods isn't a crime!"

"Carlton please just go with them sweetie." The nurse pleaded standing back to her feet. "They aren't here to hurt you."

His younger self looked over at the nurse in apology and slacked his grip on the metal tray. The distraction was enough for the officers to quickly take away the tray and apprehend him.

"Stop! Let me go!" He yelled as they forcefully pulled him out of the room in handcuffs. "Where are my parents!?"

"You'll see them at the station." One of the officers answered pushing the teenager out the door and out of view.

"Poor kid." The nurse said sadly, walking over and picking up the metal tray from the floor.

"That poor kid busted my nose." The doctor said grumpily, snatching paper towels from the wall dispenser. "He's guilty if you ask me."

"He isn't guilty." The nurse stated.

"Oh. He's guilty of something." The doctor said cleaning the blood from his nose. "Resisting the police like that. Now go tend to the rest of your patients. The hospital doesn't pay for talking."

The nurse looked like she wanted to retort back, but she held her tongue. "Yes Doctor –"

The fizzling image of people disappeared leaving him alone in the now returned gray room.

Trying to take everything in, he stood staring for a minute.

"What did I just see? I don't remember any of that. Prairie Woods? Disappearance?" He asked before looking at the table to see another inkblot picture had appeared. The paper had a single horizontal ink smear that was smooth on one length, but on the other length, there were multiple spikes and branches of ink reaching toward the edge of the paper. The hole was also on the branching side of the paper.

He walked over and placed it on the second nail. He heard the only door in the room click, signaling it was now unlocked.

He looked at the door expecting someone to enter. But when no one did, he cautiously walked over. As he reached for the handle, black ink started to appear and drip on the door, spelling out a message.

_**Things aren't what they appear; they'll never be the same.**_

_**Open the door, take a good look, and go back from where you came.**_

He stared at the message and then headed out of the door. Outside, he had expected to walk into a hallway of some kind, but what he step out to was a dark forest. He could barely see anything beyond the light concentrated from the room behind him.

"Okay." He said a little unsure. Before he could take a step back, he heard the door suddenly slam shut. He turned, holding back the string of curses that wanted to come out of his mouth, as he took notice that the door was not only closed, but it had also disappeared, leaving him alone in a very dark forest.

The quarter moon above was the only light source, but it was a very weak light source.

"What happened to going back to where I came from?" He mumbled before looking around at the dark trees and up at the covered sky. He couldn't make out any of the stars or anything familiar to give a sense of direction. Sighing, he started walking, praying that he'd find a clearing to at least get a clear look of the stars.

A minute of walking passed and a sudden cold breeze blew by, making him shiver. Leaves started to fall from the trees and a quiet mumbling sound met his ears. He stopped, looking around at the foliage and the tall, swaying trees.

The sound stopped and he didn't see anything suspicious, so he started back walking. Another few minutes into his walk, the mumbling sound started again. He internally shrugged and kept going. Twigs crunched under his feet and the breeze continued to gently blow, making more leaves dance and jump off the branches from above to glide down to the ground below.

And just when unease started to creep into him at the thought of wandering a dark forest until he died, he spotted a soft yellow light through the trees. He hurried his steps and broke the tree line to reveal a two-story, wooden cabin with a stone chimney. The lights were on and it looked like someone was home.

He gave a slight smile of relief before running across the large yard. As he hit the middle of the yard, the lights suddenly darkened and he stopped running. There was a feeling crawling up his spine making his hair stand on end.

He looked around. He hadn't noticed how quiet it was or that the breeze had stopped. Swallowing his returned unease, he started walking toward the safety of the cabin.

The sound of leaves rustling met his ears, but he ignored it. Despite there not being a single leaf on the flat, grassy area. And he ignored the mumbling of voices that joined it, despite there not being a single soul outside with him. Another breeze blew by freezing him in his tracks at its icy touch. He shivered.

"_I need to get to that cabin." _He thought, but it seemed to be further away than he had believed it to be. _"Or maybe I'm not moving…"_ He thought, finally noticing that he was still in the middle of the yard. Despite having walked for quite a while.

He stopped walking and the mumbling voices started to rise in volume and the icy breeze started to whirlwind, grabbing at his white clothes. Soon people screaming joined it, followed by gun shots, stuff breaking, children crying, liquid dripping…

Covering his ears, he looked around frantically before running in the dark toward where the silhouette of the cabin was. He wanted to get away from the rising noise.

As he was running, his foot suddenly caught something on the ground and he fell to his hands and knees with a small yell.

He couldn't keep himself from looking back to see what he had tripped over. The chill in his back deepened at seeing that he had tripped over a dead body.

And not just any dead body. It was… It was…

He knew with being a detective that he shouldn't feel such nervousness and fear over a dead body, but he couldn't help the rising panic or keep himself from quickly crawling back, away from the…

He looked at the growing dark pool on the ground and the dark stains on his knees. He unconsciously rubbed his hands on the grass.

A low growl started to build behind him and his head turned to see a large, black mass with white fangs bared, slowly stalking toward him from the direction of house. With bright, gold eyes, it stared and he scrambled to his feet, staring back unsure of what to do. It took a moment to push the thought of the dead body to focus on saving himself.

"_I'll have to make a run for it."_ He thought, eyeing the darkened cabin. He set his face into a scowl to hide his fear and then took off, running straight for the black mass.

It snarled and ran at him.

At the last moment, he dodged its lunge and snapping jaws. He gave a slight "Ha" over his shoulder and then focused on getting to the cabin. The shelter was getting closer as he heard the thing chasing him. But just when he reached the stairs up to the porch, the cabin disappeared in a smoky, gray mist. He almost stopped running out of shock and terror, but he kept going through the hard-to-see mist.

As suddenly as the mist appeared, it too disappeared revealing a doorway floating in the middle of nothing. It didn't make sense and his brain said that it didn't make sense. But nothing of what he was going through made sense.

He pushed through the floating door and quickly turned to slam it shut. He stayed braced against the door for a few minutes to make sure the jaws of that thing were not going to break through. He leaned his head on the door with closed eyes, breathing heavily and trying to push away the fact that the thing had been inches away from getting him.

Finally calming his breathing, he opened his eyes and groaned at seeing that he was back in an untied, straitjacket and the muzzle was wrapped around his face. In a sudden fit of frustration, he pulled at the jacket and was surprised to find it came off quite easily, revealing his white dress shirt with navy tie and matching colored slacks. He tossed the offending item as far down the hallway as possible before pulling at the half mask. It didn't budge and he groaned at that.

Then he noticed a white note taped to the wall next to the door. He pulled the note from its place and leaned against the door to read it.

_**Two sides of one coin was always the key. **_

_**No one ever said there were really three.**_

"I'm so tired of these stupid notes." He growled, balling it in his hands. "I'm going to take this note and shove it down the throat of the first person I see." He then pushed off the wall and turned. He nearly jumped ten feet in the air when he saw that girl from before standing there.

Tucking some of her long, dark hair behind an ear, she looked at him.

"I-I just seen you –" He pointed at the closed door.

"Just seen what?" She asked curiously.

"You were dead. Sprawled out on the ground dead." He rubbed his throat and stopped himself from explaining the wounds. "Maybe you weren't dead." He looked away from her. "Maybe I was just seeing things. Maybe…" He looked back at her and then jumped back grasping the door at seeing the wounds on her. Her face was a pasty white making the red color on her chest and around her exposed neck pop out in its boldness.

"Carlton?" She asked reaching for him.

He unconsciously slid away from the door and out of her reach. His body wanted to run down the hallway, but it didn't when he felt more than heard her say, "No. Don't leave me."

He stared at her as her image was suddenly normal again. No blood or dead gaze in her eyes.

"What are you!?" He asked. His voice betraying how panicky he was.

She looked at the ground. Her face was saddened.

"Are you some kind of…," He swallowed at what he was about to say, "Spirit?"

She shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't know. How can you not know!?" His voice rose high and then choked. "I was right. I am dead and this is Hell." He rubbed his forehead and started pacing. "Done in by a crazy cult." He mumbled.

"You're not dead, Carlton."

He paused looking at her. "If I'm not dead, then what is this place and why am I seeing things?" He dropped his hand from his head. "And what are you supposed to be?"

"Like I said before. I am no one important. But you need to understand and accept."

"Understand and accept what?"

She pointed at the door he had come from.

He looked at the door, thinking about the noise in the forest where he had seen her body. "What do you want me to do? Find your killer or something."

She turned away. He could hear her sniffing.

He frowned. "If that's the case, go haunt Spencer. He's the psychic."

"I'm not haunting you." She said forcefully, turning back to him with fire in her wet eyes. "And I know **exactly** who my **killer** is."

She took a step toward him. He took a couple of uneasy steps back. She sounded demonic.

"And if I wanted, I could make his life the ninth circle of hell." She paused and smiled a sugary sweet smile. "But I'm not vengeful. I'm here to help like I said before."

He gave a nervous cough to cover his building uneasiness of the girl. "So how do I understand and accept?"

She shook her head at his question and then pointed behind him. "You need to go through that door."

He turned to see the Chief of Police door from before placed on a previously bare wall.

"Will that help me understand and accept?" He asked.

She again shook her head. "You need to wake up."

"Wake up?" His eyebrow rose. "That's the same thing that Victoria had told me and I ended up in some strange place."

"That wasn't the door. This is. That other door mustn't be opened."

"Okay..." He said with his words trailing into uncertainty. He wanted to ask her why it shouldn't be open. It wasn't like he opened the door and went in. He had only unlocked it and for some reason, he could tell that what he had just went through was only from unlocking it. "So I just go through the door?" He asked walking over to it.

"Yes." She nodded her head.

"I don't know why I'm doing what you're saying, but anything is better than these endless hallways and whatever that was." He said pointing to the other door.

She didn't say anything as he faced the Chief's door and grabbed the handle, turned it, and pushed. Bright white encased his vision.

When the light subsided and his vision came back, he woke up to the beautiful colors of a sunrise over water while sitting in a very familiar blue car parked on the sandy beach.

"What just happened?" He asked to no one as he looked down at the tied hospital gown under the white doctor's coat that he was wearing.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 42.5 – Flying on Broken Wings<strong>

[Early Mon]

"_**Arriving now… Flight 426." **_

"_Ok that's her flight."_ He thought glancing at his watch. It read 8:10am.

He looked around at the crowd of people leaving the exit, trying to spot the woman. He didn't know what she looked like. The stolen information never had a picture, but he expected dark-hair, conservative attire, a cold attitude, someone that would part the sea of people with just their presence.

"_But then again the oldest was more laid back."_

So with the record his assumptions were going, he had long since decided that the best method to get her attention was with a sign. A normal handwritten sign with her first name and last initial spread across in thick, black ink.

Minutes passed as person after person left the exit. He put up his best smile at potential candidates and motion toward the sign in his hand. He didn't want to cause a scene by yelling her name. People tend to remember stuff like that.

The minutes ticked into half an hour as the exiting people trickled down to nothing. His face twisted in annoyance.

"_She better have gotten on the plane." _

Then one lone person exited, looked around for a few seconds, and then walked over to him.

She looked up at him with wet, blue eyes.

"_She's been crying."_ He noted. _"It's probably the reason she was last."_

"Hi." Her voice was meek. "I'm Lauren Lassiter. Are you my ride?"

In hidden shock, he nodded his head.

She was young and pretty to say the least, and looked nothing like what he had imagined. Her light-colored, shoulder length hair covered her face a little and she wore a slightly form fitting shirt and Capri pants with tennis shoes.

Dropping the paper to his side, he held out his hand.

"Hello, Ms. Lauren. I'm Officer William Burkett with the SBPD." He flashed his badge, a badge taken from the officer that he had Bear kill for the liver.

She didn't seem too focused on the details, but she glanced at the badge before he placed it back in his pocket.

"I'm here to escort you to a safe location just as explained in the phone call." Her mouth moved to talk, but he stopped her words with a slight wave of his hand. "It's best not to discuss the situation in such a public place. Come on. The car is this way." He briefly motioned where to go and then bent down to take her luggage.

She solemnly nodded her head and followed his lead.

He smiled in the inside. It was working perfectly.

Popping open the trunk to the medium-sized black sedan, he placed her luggage in and then opened the backseat door for her to get in.

She slid in without a word.

He closed the door and hopped into the driver's seat.

His inside smile grew brighter as he pulled out of the airport driveway and onto the highway heading to the 'safe' place.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Ms. Lassiter." He said breaking the silence. "He was an excellent officer, the best in the department."

He glanced at her through the rearview mirror. Silent tears were rolling down her face as she stared out the window.

"I am honored to have worked with him." He heard her sniff. "And I will try my best to protect you from the man that killed him." He looked back to the road ahead. _"Although he's already dead."_ He added grimly in his head.

Silence again fell as the highway started to thin out into roads. Minutes passed before he finally pulled the car up to their destination.

"Ok here we are." He exclaimed placing the car in park and getting out. She followed his exit out of the car.

"Let's get you situated first and then I'll bring in your luggage."

She nodded and followed his steps to the dark wood and red brick, two-story house surrounded by tall pine trees and other thick vegetation.

He unlocked the door and allowed her to enter first. Once inside, he turned the lights on. Everything was back in place. He made sure there was no sign of his fit from the other day. A new TV was sitting on the counter in the kitchen, along with a new set of chairs under the table and a couch in the den.

"I know you don't know me," He said humbly closing the front door after she walked in.

She turned to look at him.

"But if you need anything: food, entertainment," He did a little dance. She smiled a little. "Or just someone to talk to. I'm here, just let me know."

As if on cue, she looked at him, took the few steps toward him, and threw her arms around his waist crying her eyes out.

It was awkward. He really didn't mean to say that. But crying women always poked his sensitive side and made him say stuff without thinking. It was one of those aspects that Jenna loved about him and he guessed it still clung to him, unlike the rest of his humanity.

"_Jenna. I miss you so much." _

"_I miss you, too, William."_ He could picture her saying.

So he stood there reliving happier times with his wife, unconsciously rubbing the girl's hair, and letting her cry her eyes out until she felt the need to let go of him.

But the little moment of peace didn't change anything about the plan.

"_Because she's still a Lassiter and they will all pay, especially the detective."_

As soon as she let go, he stuck her with a syringe full of a sleeping agent and looked at her apathetically as she collapsed in his arms, succumbing to its effects.

Her eyes had held a look of betrayal, but he pushed the image away, in favor of thinking about all of the test he would run and the best way to get the other Lassiter here by himself.

It was time to end this.


	44. Ch43 The Cabin in the Woods

**Chapter 43 – The Cabin in the Woods**

**[Mon] **

The sun was rising in the East over the sandy beach, making the slow blend of dark blues and purples turn into a soft, light blue.

He stared out of the windshield at the mile-long stretch of sand and waves, unable to wrap his head around what to do or why he was sitting in Guster's car on a small beach in the middle of nowhere.

Besides the sand, water, and the circle of trees around him, there were a set of wooden stairs leading up a grassy embankment a couple of yards off to his right that disappeared into a thick line of trees. He glanced at the rearview mirror, but couldn't see anything important other than trees and a reflection of himself. His tired self... without the brown, plastic muzzle wrapped around his face.

He shook his head, pushing the thought away.

"What am I supposed to do?" He said to himself looking away from the mirror to the rest of the car's interior. It was void of any clues as to what to do, except a few empty bags of chips and candy where the passenger sat.

"_Most likely from Spencer." _He thought, turning his attention to quickly checking the glove compartment, console, and backseat. All of which were also empty of anything important for his situation.

With a sigh, he grasped the steering wheel and leaned his head on it, trying to think back before everything became strange.

"_The station was normal until I went down to the cells, but everything still felt off even before I left my house… and met that strange girl…" _

He couldn't think of what exactly happened between him going down to the cells and becoming trapped in the dark room. There was a wall blocking him, so he left it alone.

"_So before waking up at my house, I was…" _He paused, thinking some more. _"I was at Leo's house." _ A sudden sense of déjà vu overcame him at hitting another wall and he stopped trying to push his mind to fill in the missing gap of how he got to his house.

"_Okay the last thing I remember from that point in time was feeling very off. I then got shot and stabbed trying to free O'Hara and Spencer from Leo and his group."_ Looking at his gown and the two bandaged areas on his stomach and chest, he lightly rubbed a hand over the wounds. He was surprised that he didn't feel any pain. _"And by the look of things, I was taken to the hospital, but somehow I'm now here, still in hospital attire, feeling fine enough to drive a car to some place an unknown number of miles away." _He closed his eyes. _"So how was I able to get Guster's keys and drive off in his car? Where does the station, the hallways, the girl, and all the other strange stuff fit in?" _He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. _"...And am I really awake?" _

For all he knew, he could still be in that place...

He opened his eyes and stared at his lap for a good minute before a thought popped in his head and he pulled his head up.

"This has Spencer's name all over it. Why didn't I realize it before? He probably charmed some nurse or doctor to give me some drug that screwed with my head, which gave me that strange dream, and then while I slept he stole me from the hospital as a prank."

Frowning, he glared at the tree line.

"He's probably hiding up there having a good laugh at my expense."

He pushed the door open and stepped out only to sigh angrily at having no shoes on his feet, just white socks.

"Dammit, Spencer. It's bad enough I have to walk around like this." He grumbled quickly buttoning up the doctor's coat to save some dignity and to keep from holding the gown closed. He completed the task, slammed the door closed, and started awkwardly marching across the sand to the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, there was a single, abandoned dirt trail leading through the shady evergreen. He followed the trail and soon found himself looking at the side of a two-story cabin. The shape looked familiar and he slowly strolled around to its front. His eyes widened at the sight.

"T-this is the cabin from that dream place." He said, frantically looked around at the surrounding trees. There were no signs of yellow eyes, mist, or any of the things he had seen from before.

"Calm yourself down. That was a drug induced dream." He mumbled lowly to himself while staring at the cabin. It had to be. _"Houses don't disappear and doors don't appear out of thin air to save your behind."_ And he had never been here before, at least not that he could recall at the moment.

Scowling, he started walking to the porch while grumbling, "Spencer is in there and I will make sure he gets a taste of his own concoction if I have to hold him down and inject him myself."

The wood ached loudly under his weight as he climbed the steps of the wraparound porch and rang the doorbell. No one came and he pushed the button again, added a couple of heavy knocks to the door, and called out Spencer's name. There was still no answer and despite feeling that the house was in fact empty, he tried to look through the ornate glass on the door to see any form of life. When that too failed to get the door open, he moved to the window on the right of the door, but closed blinds shielded the inside.

He sighed and pushed away from the window to look out at the yard. The paved driveway was empty and had signs of prolonged disuse. He glanced back at the window. There was a thin layer of green grime covering the glass.

"_No one is answering because no one here."_ He thought folding his arms in irritation. _"And if no one is here, then why am I here? What was Spencer-?"_ A sudden thought popped in his head. _"Maybe it wasn't Spencer…"_ He walked up to the porch's banister to look further out and around the front yard. _"Maybe it was Leo that left me here… But why would he take me out of the hospital and leave me and Guster's car out here? How did he manage to get me out of the hospital in the first place? …Was I really at the hospital?"_

That trip through the hallways and the other places had put doubt in him and made question after question appear in his head. With each question, he grew more and more confused. Until finally, he just had to push everything away or risk a headache growing along with the number of questions.

Rubbing his head, he looked around the porch and soon spotted something scratched on one of the vertical supports for the banister that was close to the entrance.

"Figures as much, Leo always leaves notes." He mumbled, bending down while keeping one hand on the banister.

"Whoami." He read and then repeated. "Whoami?"

He wasn't sure what it meant. It was different than all the other notes.

Was it because he didn't do the last step?

He frowned.

No matter how frustratingly, annoying Spencer was, he would not go so far as to kill the man. It went against everything he stood for. Everything he was. _"Everything I am…"_

Then like a light bulb turning on, the correct answer came to him. "Who am I?" That was what the scratched note said. Not whoami. He would've laughed at himself, but another question popped in his head. "Why did he scratch this here at this abandon house in the middle of nowhere?" He asked himself.

He wasn't really sure if it was the middle of nowhere. There could've been another cabin behind a line of trees out of sight, but he wasn't going to venture out to go find it. He was starting to wonder why he didn't just get back into Guster's car and drive back to civilization. Was the mystery surrounding current events getting to him that bad?

He sighed.

He was completely vulnerable out here, but he couldn't leave. Something in him was telling him to stay and figure out the importance of this cabin.

"_Understand and accept." _He thought, standing up and looking out at the yard. "Who am I?" He said again and then leaned on the porch's banister.

A slight breeze floated by and a sudden presence rose next to him.

"That's a good question, Carlton. A very good question."

His head quickly turned at the voice and was stunned to see his long-deceased grandfather standing in front of the door looking at him with a slight smile.

He watched frozen as the old man walked over to copy his lean on the wooden rail.

"I ask that same question to myself sometimes." His grandfather pondered openly, looking out at the yard.

He opened his mouth to ask "what are you doing here?" But no words would come out and he quickly turn to look back at the yard to hide his confusion. He wasn't sure what was choking his words.

The man next to him looked just like how he remembered from before the stint in the hospital and the final display in the off-white coffin. Silver-gray hair cut short, circular glasses shielding the light blue eyes, stern posture dressed in his casual attire: white shirt and jeans. He was still a couple of inches taller than the old man, but that was to be expected.

"So how do you like it here?" His grandfather asked.

"Huh?" He finally got out.

"I know you don't like being away from your family like this, but I think it's for the best. It's peaceful and nice out here and I think you need it, especially after the 'you know what.'"

"_No I don't know the 'you know what.'"_ He thought.

"Joseph, um, your father isn't as supportive and attentive about this as I had hoped. It is expected though. Your little sister is a bundle of energy." His grandfather gave a little chuckle.

"_My sister?"_

The old man glanced at him. "Don't give me that look."

"_What look?"_

"You have to talk about it and get it out some time or it'll drive you insane."

"Why does it matter? I'm already insane." His voice answered grimly, but he knew that he hadn't said it. Actually it didn't look like his grandfather was really talking to him.

"Don't say that." His grandfather retorted. "You aren't–"

"Insane!" His voice finished. Then he saw something step out of him toward his grandfather and he jumped back. It was a semi-transparent, younger version of himself. The teenager quickly grew solid like his grandfather and continued yelling out.

"That's what they voted for!" The young Carlton yelled pointing out at the yard. "Insanity! That's what they saw! I wanted it to end, but no. They wanted me to suffer. Do you think I wanted to sit in some cell every day and be forced to relive everything, be forced to take their cure-it-all drugs and methods for some disease they thought I had?"

He grasped the banister tightly while still looking at the two. Not sure whether to run or stay and listen.

"Carlton, they saw redemption and your innocence." His grandfather answered. "And I–"

"Redemption!? My innocence!? What innocence? That died with my best friend when I… When I–" Young Carlton looked down at his hands in sadness. "I died there…"

"So if you died there, then you can rise and be reborn like a phoenix here." The old man gave a small smile.

Young Carlton threw a hated glare at his grandfather before pushing away from the banister, walking past the old man, down the porch steps, and across the front yard toward the thick tree line.

The old man's smile drifted away in defeat as he watched Young Carlton disappear into the thicket.

"I don't know what to do to fix this. God help me show my grandson the goodness he still has despite all the darkness covering him."

He watched as his grandfather gave the banister a pat before walking away and disappearing back into the house. He stood there for quite a while glancing between the closed door and the area where his younger self had disappeared.

"_What did I just see?"_ He thought turning his sights back to the door. _"Should I check the door to see if it's open?"_ He had never tried turning the knob. _"Or should I follow myself?"_

After a brief mental debate, he walked over and stood in front of the door. His hand hovered over the door knob, but didn't touch it. In the back of his mind, he was wondering if he was still in that dream place and that everything around was something conjured from his head.

The little display strongly reminded him of the gray room with the doctor and the scene of his younger self being arrested. A scene that he still couldn't remember happening. He didn't want to open the door and end up in some random area that wasn't the interior of the house.

A sudden sense of dread settled in his stomach. He was starting to think that him being here had nothing to do with Leo physically bringing him here. Something else had brought him here.

He swallowed at the growing lump in his throat with hand still hovering over the door knob.

"_Was it that girl?"_ He thought looking down at his hand. _"Was she the one that brought me here? Is this one of the things that she wants me to understand and accept?"_

He shook his head and made a small scoffing noise in his throat. "None of that was real. There is no way some dead girl is haunting me. Just open the door. Nothing will happen." He told himself. "There is nothing to worry about. It's an empty house. It's probably locked." Taking a deep breath, he held the knob and tried to turn it. A soft breeze blew by ruffling his clothes slightly and he frowned. The door was locked just like he had expected it to be.

"_This isn't some dream or some place in my head." _He thought, patting the wooden door. _"This is real."_ He took a step back studying the door. "I should get in through the usual legal paths. A trip to the station for a warrant should-" His words abruptly stopped. "… But I'm suspended." His shoulders drooped at the words as he stared at the door. Then he perked up slightly at the thought of finding or remembering something that might clear his name and get him off of suspension.

He turned looking out at where his younger self had disappeared into the woods.

A part of him really didn't want to go wander off after some apparition of his self that could or could not lead him to somewhere important. As far he knew, it could've disappeared beyond the trees, and he would rather not get lost in an unfamiliar area.

"But I could go a few yards in," he thought to himself aloud, "and if I don't immediately find anything I'll come back." He nodded his head in agreement before pushing away from the door and carefully following the footsteps of Young Carlton.

He traveled in a straight line for a few minutes and found nothing out of the ordinary. No glimpses of his younger self. Nothing, but trees and more trees. Concluding that he was following a dead trail, he turned and started heading back to the cabin… only to stop in his tracks at the sight before him.

His younger self stood there a few feet away with head bowed and eyes staring at the ground.

It was a little creepy to say the least. He waited for the young Carlton to do something, but minutes passed without a single movement from the teenager.

"_I should probably get out of here."_ He thought, starting to feel very uneasy at the stillness and lack of eye contact. Keeping the Young Carlton in his sights, he made a slow circle around, giving a wide girth. The teen didn't move, say anything, or follow his careful movements as he reached the invisible path he made to get to the area from the cabin. Here, he gave his younger counterpart one last look before walking away.

But as soon as he took a couple of steps away, a slightly cold breeze blew by making him stop in his tracks.

For a second, he had to question himself because he could've sworn he heard the word _"Blinded"_ whispered in the breeze …Or maybe it wasn't from the breeze. Maybe it was a thought. But why–?

"_Can't see…"_ A clearer thought floated in his head with another breeze.

His face scrunched in confusion. It wasn't the breeze…

"_It's right in front of you."_ Another thought mockingly said, making him look around at the trees. _"Right in front of you!"_

He then turned back to his younger self.

The teen was now facing him with head still bowed, but something was different.

His eyes narrowed, studying… and that was when he saw it.

Young Carlton was crying.

He had overlooked it at first, but now he could see it clearly. The mask his younger self was wearing was bursting at the seams with whatever hurt and pain he was trying to bury.

He frowned. He knew the mask all too well and what happened when it couldn't handle the pressure. Anger was first, followed by snapping at anyone around him to push them away. Then forced isolation…

He looked around at the many trees of complete seclusion and then focused on his younger self, who fell to his knees in a state of silent tears.

And finally, emotional release.

He didn't understand why Young Carlton was this way. He didn't remember doing any of this. He felt both sadden and disturb by the display of himself crying in the middle of the woods while his grandfather was only a short distance away. The old man had always been someone he could go vent to or talk about things. His grandfather was a better mentor than his father had been. And though he might not have been as fun as Hank, the old man was still at the top of the advisor list. It was all he knew him as.

As far as he could remember…

He stared at the teenager, not knowing what to do. Should he approach or leave?

A part of him said to leave, but another said to stay; that some of the answers could be right in front of him.

Swallowing, he pushed down the part that wanted to leave. He came out here for answers and he'd be a fool to leave.

"_Or you're a fool for staying…"_ A thought whispered.

Ignoring the thought, he carefully approached the kneel form of his younger self, whose body was shaking with grief and whose lips were saying things too softly to comprehend.

"Hello." He called out so as not to startle the teen.

There was no acknowledgement from his younger self. He had expected that, but it was habit to let someone know that you were coming to them and habits die hard.

"Hello." He repeated, looking down at his younger self, who continued to cry softly. _"Maybe I'm supposed to comfort him." _He started to reach out to rub the teenager's back, but stopped inches away.

"_Why am I doing this?"_ He thought. _"Why am I here?" _He shook his head, frowning at his hesitation. _"Nothing is going to happen. None of this real. My hand will probably go through him."_

Gathering a burst of courage, he lowered his hand and was shocked to feel something solid.

"_I can feel his shirt!"_ He rubbed his fingers across the teens' back gently in amazement. _"I am really touching him, but that's not possible! That's not–" _

Suddenly a creepy laugh started to replace the sound of crying. He jerked his hand away from his younger self and frantically looked around at the surroundings that had suddenly become a dark land of destruction. Fresh holes were dug in the ground in different spots and trees were knocked down or scratched. It looked like something had a tantrum and the laughing coming from his teen self wasn't making anything better.

Feeling something grab his right wrist, he looked back down at his younger self with chilled dread.

Young Carlton looked up at him with dark blue eyes through a curtain of hair. A toothy grin slowly spread across his face as fingernails started digging painfully into his wrist. Yelling, he pulled back, trying to get away, but the teen held on as splatters of red started to soak through different spots on his clothes. The teen's mouth moved, forming silent words before suddenly letting go.

…Where he abruptly found himself standing back on the porch of the cabin staring at the front door.

"w-What the hell!?" He said looking around the porch and then turning to look out at the front yard. There wasn't a sign of his younger self or the destroyed wooded area. "What just happened?" It looked like he had never stepped off the porch. _"But I had stepped off and I met my younger self…"_

Closing his eyes, he lightly slapped his cheeks. "I must've fallen asleep on my feet." He said to himself.

"_I wouldn't call it falling asleep."_ A thought floated into his head, making him stop in mid-slap.

He opened his eyes to see a man leaning on the porch's support pillar looking at him with an apathetic expression on his face. The man definitely hadn't been there when he had closed his eyes.

He frowned, covering his surprise and confusion. Not only did this man appear out of thin air, but the man looked exactly like him, except for the slightly longer hair, the gold eye color, and the different attire. He was wearing all black with slacks, dress shirt, and shoes. A frayed, black band was wrapped around his neck.

"_What's wrong?"_ The thought continued almost mockingly. _"Saw something frightening?"_

His frown deepened, studying the unknown man. "Who are you?"

"_Wouldn't we all like to know?" _Another thought said. A grin formed on the man's face as he pushed off the pillar to stand straight.

His eyes widened slightly at realizing that the 'thoughts' were coming from the man: his twin.

The man dropped the grin and looked around at the front of the cabin. _"I see that you want to get into grandfather's summer cabin."_

"Grandfather's cabin?" He asked.

The man gave a small nod of his head. _"I can get you in and I can also help you remember."_

"Help me remember? Remember what?"

The man glanced at him. _"Everything: all the things you've forgotten."_

He stayed silent.

"_I know you want to understand why your memory is messed up; why you can't seem to get the pieces to fit. I have all the answers that you seek and I can give them to you."_

He raised a hand to stop the man from talking anymore. "So who are you exactly?" He asked.

"_Just take my hand and you'll know everything."_ The gold-eyed man extended his right hand out.

He glanced at the straight-faced man and then down at his hand. Something about this was very familiar to him, but he couldn't place it. He blinked and suddenly the man's hand was covered in blood. Sharp, black nails stood out from the dark red. He blinked again and it returned to normal.

"_What are you waiting for?" _The man asked calmly.

Suddenly a quick memory of dialogue surfaced and the same voice, but younger, said, _"Come on. Just give in, so I can have some fun."_

He remembered frantically shaking his head to refuse and backing away before it spoke again, _"You'll have fun, too."_ The voice cooed. _"Ignoring me will not make anything better or make me disappear. Just accept me."_

As the memory faded, he looked back at the man's face. _"Was this what she meant by 'to understand and accept'?"_ He thought to himself. He didn't know, but something was telling him to not trust this man. To never trust this man because something was clearly wrong with him and that only bad things will ever come from him.

"_You don't want to understand?"_ The man questioned with his hand still out.

"I'll find another way to understand and accept." He answered, moving to walk past the man toward the porch steps. He suddenly didn't like being between the door and the mysterious man, who hadn't introduced himself yet.

Frowning, the man gave his hand a quick glance before letting it hit his side and turning to face him. _"You were always afraid."_

He paused at the first step off the porch and glanced back. "I'm not afraid." He reflexively said.

"_You're not afraid?" _The tone was very mocking.

"No. I am not afraid." He repeated defiantly, turning to fully face the man. "What reason would I have to be afraid?"

The man then took a couple of small steps toward him.

He unconsciously stepped back to the second step of the stairs.

"_If you're not afraid, then why are you running away from me?" _

He never noticed that ever since the man had first appeared, a chill of anxiety had been traveling through his spine and now it was quickly growing in intensity.

"_Why don't you look me in the eye?"_

He also hadn't noticed that he was avoiding the man's golden gaze and it took some effort for him to look the man in the eye with a scowl. He wanted to prove him wrong. However, his body wasn't agreeing and his eyes soon ventured away from the man's gaze.

"_If you're not afraid," _the man suddenly appeared right in front of him with an inhuman snarl of his face and grabbed the front of his doctor's coat. "_Then take this collar off of me!"_

Gasping in shock and reflexively taking another step back, he pushed away from the man, breaking the hold only to slip off the stair steps and land on the hard ground below with a grunt.

On the porch, the man dropped the snarl, took a step forward, and looked down at him with such disdain before disappearing and reappearing right next to his fallen form.

Frozen, he looked up at the unknown man that held his face.

"_You don't know who I am. Hell, you don't know who you are, but you will know…eventually because you desire to know."_ The man crouched down next to him. _"Just like you desire for your enemies to bleed and die a slow and painful death."_ A crazed grin formed on the man's face with sharp canines showing and then the man started to reach out to him.

Alarms resounded loudly in his head. He quickly crawled away out of the twin's reach and scrambled to his feet while taking a few more retreating steps back.

The man's eyes followed. _"And you said that you weren't afraid."_ The man stood up with the grin slowly forming into a frown. _"I'm only helping fulfill your wants. __Give you answers. __Isn't that why you're still here?"_

He copied his twin's frown. "I'm not–"

The man suddenly appeared in front of him, grabbing his throat and right wrist with an iron grip.

He choked struggling against the hold with his free left hand.

"_Shh. This is why I'm here." _The crazed grin formed again on his face. _"This is why you called me."_

The grip around his throat started to tighten.

Stars dotted his sights and those stars started to form images and those images cycled randomly through his mind bringing pieces of understanding.

Suddenly he heard the man give a sharp growl and loosen his grip around his neck. Coughing, he rubbed the strained area and backed away from the man who was angrily pulling at the black band around his neck. For a second, he stared at the man before realizing that he was free and his legs could carry him away from this place and the man who really wasn't a man at all. He could now see the monster hiding underneath the human disguise and he didn't want to be anywhere near it.

Gaining his bearing, he quickly stumbled to the side of the cabin, down the trail through the evergreen, and to the wooden stairs that led back to the beach. He grasped the banister trying to get his breath back.

"I need to get to Guster's car and get away from here." He pushed off the wooden rail to start descending down the stairs, but a flash of white in his eyes made him stop.

Somewhere in his mind, he could see the cherry wood door with "Solitary Confinement" stamped across it. It slowly opened a crack and then stopped. And for the first time, he recognized the cabin and a way to get in it. It was the brown strap in the lockbox. There was a key to the cabin hidden in it. His vision cleared and he rubbed his head, looking around a little unsure. He glanced back at the cabin to make sure the man wasn't heading his way.

"Carlton!"

His head jerked back to the stairs at the sound of his name. O'Hara was standing downstairs with Spencer and Guster behind her. He would've smiled at seeing them and some sense of reality, but the gun in O'Hara's hand pointed at him immediately made whatever short happiness he had gathered die away.


	45. Ch44 What is Taken is Usually Recovered

Gold eyes glared heavily at the retreating human. Snarling, he tugged at the tightened collar around his neck and took a couple of steps forward. _"If I could get my claws on-"_

"So it was you."

The sound of a female voice cut through his snarls and he turned his glare at the appearing dark-haired female standing a few feet behind him.

"I was wondering how he had unlocked the door and what he meant when he said that Victoria had given him the key." She stated before concluding blankly. "There wasn't a Victoria. You gave him the key."

Growling, he bared his teeth at her and expressed his thoughts for her to hear. _"He wanted it." _

"No. You wanted it. He didn't know that it was for the Door." She narrowed her eyes. "Did he?"

Ignoring the teenager talking to him, he kept growling and pulling at the offending, black item around his neck.

"Answer me!" She yelled out.

Silence fell for a few minutes.

He stopped pulling at the collar. _"It doesn't matter who wanted it. Secrets always find a way of coming out."_ He glanced at her. _"I told you that you couldn't keep him away from me forever. Once I get this collar completely off…"_ A toothy grin slowly stretched across his face and he appeared by her. _"You'll be back in the ground and everything will go back to how it was." _He turned his gaze to the stairs that led to the beach. _"It's so close that I can taste it …blood so sweet staining the ground like rivers between blades of grass... My prey…"_ Laughing, he disappeared into dark mist. Red and orange leaves fluttered from where he had stood.

* * *

><p>She stared at the place where the man had been, shaking her head slowly. She didn't like this. Things were quickly slipping completely out of her control and moving too fast.<p>

She sighed, looking at the cabin.

She had figured waking up to a beautiful view of the secluded beach would relax him and seeing the cabin would slowly spur enough memories for him to understand.

She glared at the spot where the man disappeared.

She hadn't expected for **that** to show its face and manipulate the memories in its favor.

_"It has gained more strength than I thought it could have had at this point." _She thought to herself.

If this kept going in the direction it was heading, more people were going to die and Grandfather's efforts would be for nothing. But what could she do now… Dreams can only do so much when nightmares start to take over.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 44 – What is Taken is Usually Recovered...<strong>

**A few hours earlier…**

"Okay I have it." Gus said getting back into the taxi.

He eyed the GPS device in his best friend's hand while holding an icepack to his head.

"Please drive us to this location." Gus said showing the driver the red, blinking marker indicating the address on the device.

"Okay." The driver answered and pulled out of the parking lot of Gus' apartment building.

"I called Juliet while I was in there finding the GPS." Gus said, looking at him.

"What!?" He exclaimed pulling off the icepack from his head. "Why did you call Jules!?"

"Shawn, you know and I know what kind of delicate situation this is."

"It's not that delicate. I can handle it."

Gus gave him a look, but didn't say anything.

"Come on, Gus. How was I supposed to know that he would–?"

"Shawn, we can talk later."

"But-"

"Shawn." Gus said motioning to the taxi driver.

Sighing, he closed his mouth and they rode the rest of the journey in silence.

About thirty minutes later, outside the city, and up in the mountains, the taxi driver pulled into a dirt road off a two-way highway in the middle of nowhere. As they journeyed further into the thicket, the trees suddenly disappeared revealing a small hidden, sandy cove and the Blueberry sitting a few feet away on the sandy ground.

"My car!" Gus yelled, sitting up as the driver stopped at the edge of the sand. "Thank you for driving us." His friend then quickly paid the fare and left the car.

The driver nodded and accepted the money. "Be safe guys."

"We will." He said, giving the driver a brief smile and following Gus out of the car. He then waved for the taxi to leave and after a few second it drove away, following the path back to the highway.

"I can't believe he took my car." Gus huffed walking up to the Blueberry, which looked abandoned.

"_Unless… Horror Tip: #254. Lassie is lying in the backseat."_ He thought before saying, "I can't believe he got the jumped on me." He retorted dryly holding the icepack to his head.

"You deserved that for loosening his restraints." Gus peeked into the windows and then opened the driver's door. "Lassiter isn't here and he left my keys in the ignition. Someone could've stolen my car."

"No one would think to steal your car way out here." He opened the back door and took a quick peek at the empty backseat before looking at his friend.

Gus was frowning at him.

"And back to loosening his restraints," He closed the back door, "I had a perfectly logical explanation for that."

"Oh. Please tell me." Gus mocked. "Why did the Mighty Shawn think that it was a good idea to release an obviously drugged detective who can snap and kill anyone in a second?"

He gave his best friend a slightly surprised look. He knew Gus was upset, but not this upset. "I wanted to reason with him. You know make him more comfortable, talk mano a mano with him, and get some answers."

Gus scoffed and folded his arms.

"Lassie seemed like he was in a talking mood. _Or as much of a talking mood as a person just waking up was._" His thoughts added at the end. "You had seen how he was when Jules talked to him before the drugs kicked in. He was opening up like a flowering fountain of information. We just needed to coax him a little more and I needed you there to help me, but you left with Jules right after I told you not to leave." He pouted.

"I have-," Gus glanced at his watch, "I had work today, since I took off Friday. I told you that I couldn't stay up all night with you."

"Well too late for that." He mumbled.

"I heard that, Shawn." Gus visibly tightened his hold on the GPS device in hand. "I can't believe you would do that and take my keys. Did you forget the last time you tried to get answers by yourself? Or was it fun getting chased by a crazed Lassiter out for your blood and then being kidnapped?"

He looked at Gus and smiled. "It was rather fun getting chased. We can strap a big juicy steak to your back, so you can experience the fun too."

Gus pushed him. "Shawn, I'm not laughing and you need to take this serious. Lassiter is out there, a slave to whatever Leo gave him."

He frowned, taking the icepack off his head. "I am taking this serious, Gus. Lassie knows what's going on or at least he knows a part of the conflict between his grandfather and Leo. Keeping him strapped down to a hospital bed won't help us find Leo or solve this case. What will help us is helping Lassie follow the trail that his buried memories are giving him."

Gus was about to respond back, but a beige Crown Vic appeared from the foliage, driving on the dirt road. It rolled to a stop next to them and Jules stepped out. He put on the biggest smile he could muster.

She looked a lot better than when she had left the hospital, but the frown on her face made the tiredness creep back into her features.

"Shawn, Gus. What happened? I knew I should've stayed." Jules said walking toward them.

"There was a mishap...," he said, "and me and the other officers were knocked out and Lassie escaped."

He didn't want to say what really happened. That he had released only one strap and somehow Lassie was able to break the others, strangle him into unconsciousness, and knock out the officers before leaving with Gus' keys that he had stolen to keep Gus at the hospital. The bump on the head had come from hitting the floor after Lassie had released him.

Jules gave a disbelieving look and he quickly stated, "What has happened is in the past. We should focus on the present and find Lassie." He put a couple of fingers to his temple, being careful not to touch the sore spot where his head had connected with the floor. "The spirits' radar is beeping in that general vicinity." He pointed in the direction of an old set of stairs leading up. "They are telling me that Lassie is up there and we will find a major piece of the puzzle up there also."

"Okay, Shawn. We will check it out, but I want you to stay behind me at all times." Jules said pulling out her sidearm. "We will not have a repeat of what happened before and no one needs to be kidnapped again." Jules started walking away, following the clear foot tracks in the sand.

While they followed her closely behind, he put the icepack back on his aching head to hide more than the red knot on his head.

"_Man. She is so sexy."_ He thought admiring her posture with the handgun aimed low and her eyes searching the area.

They climbed the wooden stairs, careful not to make too much noise. It was a difficult task with the piles of dried leaves collected on the steps and the creaking of the old wood. As they slowly ascended, he couldn't keep his gaze from losing itself in the beauty of the trees and the sunlight streaming down in bright rays around them. He was so caught up in the sights that he nearly walked into Jules, who had stopped on the stairs in mid-step.

"Jules?" He asked, looking at her and then at Gus. Both of which had their eyes trained up and he followed their gaze to see the head detective staring back.

"Carlton?" He heard Jules whisper and he saw her tight resolve waver ever slightly in her hold of the gun.

The head detective continued staring blankly ahead for a few seconds before blinking slowly, looking around, and then back behind him.

It didn't seem like the detective knew they were there and it seemed like Jules realized that too.

"Carlton!" She called out, aiming her gun up at him.

"Jules, what are you doing!?" He asked reflexively, pulling the icepack off his head.

* * *

><p>"I'm not taking any chances." She said over her shoulder while maintaining her aim.<p>

On the way over to meet Gus and Shawn, she had been telling herself over and over again that she would not let her guard down this time. People's lives depended on her not being easy on her partner anymore. If she had been more watchful and less trusting of Carlton, Dawson wouldn't have died and Goober would still be in fit shape to walk. He also wouldn't have unaccounted hours, if she had stayed at the hospital instead of listening to Shawn and her tired mind.

"Carlton, we're taking you into police custody. Comply by putting your hands on your head."

He looked surprised. "O'Hara…?" The quiet question floated out from him, almost like an imaginary whisper in the wind. He took a step down toward them.

She tightened her grip. "Do not take another step! Put your hands on your head or I will use force!"

Carlton's shock deepened and she heard him stutter a few syllables before quietly taking the submissive position.

She cautioned up to him with gun still trained. Once she realized he wasn't going to do anything, she holstered her gun, quickly handcuffed his hands behind his back, checked him for any weapons, and then started guiding him down the stairs past Shawn and Gus.

Carlton glanced at her. "I don't understand, O'Hara. What's going on?"

She didn't answer him until they were back on the sand and in the uncovered sunlight. Here she met his gaze and was surprised to see clear blue staring back at her.

"O'Hara?" He asked again.

"I would like to know what's going on myself." She answered. "But first I'm taking you back to the hospital. You're sick and injured, Carlton."

She felt Carlton stop. "Sick?" He asked.

She was about to answer, but Shawn interrupted from a few paces behind them.

"Lassifrass, your memory issues are getting a little complicated." Shawn said pointing to his temple while holding the icepack to his head.

"What happened to you, Spencer?" Her partner asked.

"You got a little excited and knocked me out. It's nothing."

A covered look flew by Carlton's face. "Don't tell me I was after you again."

"No. You weren't, Lassiter." Gus spoke up from beside his friend. "Shawn was doing something dumb. As always."

Carlton frowned.

She stared at him while holding tightly to his handcuffs.

It was strange that her partner was acting so normal when in the past few days; he had been irrational and so unlike himself. She would have to wait until he was back in the hospital before asking any questions because the current situation seemed very fishy. She had a feeling that Leo was lying in wait around them somewhere.

But it looked like Shawn wasn't getting the same feeling that she was.

"So why did you come here?" Shawn asked.

"Shawn," She said preventing Carlton from answering, "we should hold the questions until we're back in a secure room." She started pulling on the handcuffs and she quickly noted Carlton's gaze back toward the stairway before he allowed her to guide him to the beige Crown Vic without resistance.

Shawn and Gus' mumbled to each other behind her as they made it back to the cars parked on the sand.

While Shawn and Gus headed to their car, she led Carlton to her car, opened the back door, and then motioned for Carlton to get in.

He looked at her and said. "O'Hara. I can't go back to the hospital. Can you take me to my house? Just for a minute."

"Carlton, I can't take you to your house. It's still a crime scene."

"A crime scene? Don't tell me they found something else to connect me to those murders."

"No. You killed Dawson and critically injured Goober when we tried to put you in police custody the first time."

Carlton stared at her in disbelief. "I did what!?"

She looked at him, not really wanting to repeat. "…You killed Dawson and injured Goober. I was there, so was the Chief–"

She could see the color draining from his face before he yelled out. "I didn't kill anyone!" His voice quieted. "I couldn't have." His uncertain blue eyes looked away from her and then journeyed back up to look at the stairway.

She wondered why he kept looking back there. She quickly made a mental note to come back and check the area out.

"Carlton, I'm-"

"No, O'Hara." He looked at her with such intensity. "There is no way I would kill someone, let alone a fellow officer."

"What's wrong?" Shawn asked as him and Gus quickly jogged over. She noted quickly how Shawn kept some distance between himself and Carlton.

Looking fully back at her partner and taking in his confusion, she chose to disregard Shawn and Gus for the moment to focus on him. "Carlton, what was the last thing you remember?"

He took a minute for him to answer. "I was trying to get you and Spencer away from Leo. I remember being stabbed, shot, and then nothing… Until I woke up in Guster's car."

She nodded her head and then asked. "What day is it?"

* * *

><p>"Sunday." He stared at the three people around him. They stared back like he had grown a second head.<p>

"No it's Monday." O'Hara said.

"Monday!? What happened to Sunday!?" He looked at Spencer. "Spencer, you said that I was having memory issues. What does that mean?"

"Carlton." O'Hara said.

He looked at her. "O'Hara, was Leo captured? Please tell me he was."

O'Hara looked at him. "Carlton, please get in the car. We can discuss things later in a secured area."

He looked at her, understanding what she meant. He sat in the backseat and watched as she closed the door and jumped into the driver's seat. He saw her glance at him through the rearview mirror before briefly talking to HQ on the radio.

"10-15 en route to hospital." She then turned the car on, pulled off the sand, out of the trees, and onto the two-way highway. The Blueberry followed close behind.

He quickly noticed how O'Hara's eyes constantly moved, scoping out the area and making the silence in the car grow thick with tension. He really wanted to tell her that Leo wasn't around and that she could relax, but he deeply felt that saying anything would only worsen the situation and cause more confusion. _"Because maybe Leo is around and I just don't know it."_ He thought.

They finally exited out of the wilderness and back into civilization. The Blueberry continued to follow close behind.

"He was captured," She suddenly spoke out, "but he escaped and now we need to find him. We were hoping that you could help us locate him because of your programming."

"My programming?"

"The Chief is thinking that Leo gave you a drug to make you do things that he wants, things out of the normal."

"Out of the normal?" He whispered more to himself. "How out of the normal?"

O'Hara gave him a quick glance through the rearview mirror again. "Like rising from the dead, not acting like yourself, killing, threatening me, fighting Buzz and Shawn. I could go on. There was a day worth of you not exactly being yourself."

He stayed silent, thinking. _"Not acting like myself…_ _Wait. _Rising from the dead? I died?"

O'Hara was quiet for a lot longer than he could say was comfortable and there were so many emotions flying through her head that he could clearly see.

"You were pronounced dead twice by medical personnel on two different occasions." He heard her say in a professional tone. "We don't exactly know how, but you kept getting up even when you had no heartbeat ...and Dawson and Goober weren't the only ones you brutally attacked. You attacked Bear while he was jailed. He later died at the hospital."

He again stayed silent.

"We don't know why, but we think that whatever Leo gave you is controlling you because you distracted us while Leo made his escape from his cell. It makes us think that Bear was temporary and you are meant to replace him. We believe that the drug will eventually bring you back to him, so that he can use you again." She paused in her talking to make a left turn.

He didn't like any of what was said. He remembered the killer talking about the influence and how it ate away at you. Was attacking and killing people a way for the drug to eat away at him? He didn't know. All he knew now was that when he blacked out people ended up hurt or killed. He had to make sure to stay away from anything that would trigger those black outs.

"What were you doing when we found you?" O'Hara suddenly asked.

He took him a moment to answer. "I was searching the area for clues as to why I was there in Guster's car. I found my grandfather's cabin at the top of the stairs." He paused at thinking about the delusions he saw and decided not to talk about them. _"She would really think I was crazy."_ He thought before telling her, "No one was there and the cabin was abandoned."

"Why did you end up by your grandfather's cabin?" She asked.

"I don't know." He responded and after a long pause, he added. "I feel like something left me there."

O'Hara stayed quiet. He could see the wheels turning in her head.

"And I don't think it was Leo." He quickly added, knowing exactly what she was thinking, and he continued talking, feeling that if he stopped he wouldn't be able to get the rest of what he was thinking out. "The key to the cabin is in a lockbox at my house. If I can get in that cabin, I think I should be able to figure out what's been going on with me and why Leo was interested in me in the first place."

She took a moment to process this before saying, "Carlton, I'll get that lockbox for you after I take you back to the hospital and make sure you're secure. There's no telling where Leo is and I don't want him getting to you."

He nodded his head, understanding what she meant.

Silence again fell between them and the minutes ticked on. His gaze slowly turned to staring out the window. A black Ford truck with heavily tinted windows and a big front guard was riding alongside them. For a second, he had to wonder why he had never bothered to get himself a truck again. His personal car was fine, but a manly life is nothing without a truck of his own.

The truck slowed down and drifted out of his sight. He leaned against the window watching other cars on the highway, almost memorized by the movement, and slowly he found himself drifting away just like the cars around them.

%%%

The ride was rough. Being handcuffed and in the back of a police car was not the most comfortable for him. He glared at the back of the two officers who dared to drag him out of the hospital. Things were confusing enough already without being arrested and charged with the death of a friend. He didn't do it…

"_I didn't do it!"_ He thought because his mouth refused to yell it.

He didn't do it.

…not on purpose. The bully on the other hand…

His glaring eyes started to burn and tingle at the thought.

That bully deserved it.

His jaw tightened and he pulled at the handcuffs.

He deserved everything!

His eyes briefly caught sight of himself in the rearview mirror. Angry glowing amber stared back.

%%%

Giving a small gasp, he quickly raised his head from off the window as he was suddenly thrown back into the present. He looked around frantically. O'Hara eyed him through her rearview mirror.

"Carlton, are you alright?" She asked.

He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself before answering. "I'm fine."

She frowned. He could tell she didn't believe him, but he couldn't explain what he had just remembered.

"Carlton, I know-"

Then the world exploded around them as their car was abruptly sent spinning out of control and into something solid.

Groaning, he blinked away his blurry sights. "What happened?" He could feel the stings of scratches on his forehead and a bruise beginning to form on his shoulder where he had hit the door. Looking around, he spotted O'Hara slumped against the steering wheel.

"O'Hara?" He croaked.

He could hear her give a small moan and he nearly sighed in relief, but the back door being snatched open and the person waiting outside made the sigh immediately catch in his throat.

He turned his head away from the open door. "O'Hara!" He yelled out before feeling something sting his shoulder. He looked at the red dart sticking out of his shoulder, then up at the person standing outside. Everything started to feel woozy. So very tiring. "O'Hara!" He tried to yell. "get out, o'har..."

Vaguely, he felt hands grab and drag him out of the car. He struggled putting up a weak fight as the feeling of sleep wrapped its arms him and when he finally closed his heavy eyes, the last image he saw was a still unconscious Juliet sitting in the wrecked car.

* * *

><p>Unfocused blue eyes opened to white smoke and the bright shine of the sunlight streaming through the broken windshield. Squealing tires sounded from outside the window and her head jerked up off the steering wheel just in time to catch the tail end of a black truck speeding off down the street away from them.<p>

"Carlton?" She asked.

Creaking metal and smoke met her call.

"Carlton?" She turned looking behind her only to find her partner gone and a deep seed of panic and worry settle into the pit of her stomach. "Carlton!?"

* * *

><p>He jumped out of the Blueberry before Gus could stop properly and ran to the crashed beige Crown Vic. He didn't care for the speeding Ford traveling away from the scene. His concern was fully on Jules.<p>

_"Please be alright. Please be alright."_ He repeated over and over and over in his head. He made it to the driver door and pulled. After some difficulty, it opened and he immediately went to work, checking on her and making sure she was okay.

"Shawn, I'm okay. I'm okay." She answered trying to push away his worried hands.

"You're not okay, Jules. That truck pushed you into a tree."

"I said I'm fine." Jules said forcefully and grabbed her radio. "HQ. 207 and a 480. In need of assistance at my location." She threw the radio back in the car and stood up.

Seeing how unstable on her feet she was, he quickly grabbed a hold of her.

Jules pushed him away from him. "Shawn. No." She stumbled away, heading toward the Blueberry. "We have to get Carlton back."

"Jules," He caught up to her easily and held her steady. "We'll get him back, but you need to get your head checked first."

"I don't need my head checked. I need to get my partner back." He could see how heartbroken she was. "He was there, Shawn. He was there and we need to go get him bac..." She collapsed in his arms.

"Jules?" He shook her a little and wiped the hair from her face before cradling her head. ...where he immediately felt wetness and saw the red on his fingers. "Jules!" He panicked, feeling helpless. "Gus, come here! We need to take Jules to the hospital right now!"


End file.
